


Of Dwarfs, Plans & Courtships

by alkjira



Series: Of Hobbits, Dwarfs & Other Idiots [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Crack, I promise I'm not evil, M/M, Obliviousness, Pining, Romance, Twue Wuv, and a little angst, courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-25 15:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 100
Words: 222,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Fíli wanted was to share a bedroll; and a few laughs, with Bofur. But when the other Dwarf turns down his advances Fíli decides to try another tactic. Because courting Bofur is obviously the best plan ever.<br/>Also includes Pining!Kíli and the question of whether Bilbo and Thorin will ever realise it's okay to do more than just look at each other.</p><p>No beta, not much actual plot, but lots of crack!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "inexperienced courting, friends to more" prompt for Fíli and Bofur on the kinkmeme. Full prompt can be found here: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3138.html?thread=3839298#t3839298
> 
> Again, character limits ruin my existence, I'm sure this story will feel right at home here.

At first Fíli had turned his thoughts towards Bofur out of nothing but sheer convenience. Their quest would be long and arduous, but would be much improved if he had someone to share is bedroll with during cold nights, someone to kiss and pleasure who would do the same to him. Bofur was the obvious solution as he was neither Fíli’s family (Kíli and Thorin) nor too young (Ori), too old (Balin, Oín _and_ Dori), too scary (Dwalin), too insane (Bifur), too fat (Bombur –no offence intended, but it would make it difficult to actually _physically_ share a bedroll), too married (Glóin) or too sneaky (Nori).  
  
He was notable also not a wizard, nor a hobbit. But it didn't take long for Fíli to realise that Bofur was also quite pleasing to look upon, and that he was kind and sweet, but with an obvious wicked side to him (that Fíli could not wait to explore).  
  
So what madness caused the older Dwarf to refuse his advances!?  
  
Fíli could have torn his moustache in frustration. He thought he had made a good proposal for the two of them to become more than merely companions on a quest. Sure, they did not really know each other all that well yet, but that was easily enough amended with an hour or two spent rolling around naked.  
  
And surely there wasn’t anything wrong with _Fíli_ that would cause a rejection? While he was young that only meant he had the energy to go all night and then continue their trek again come morning. And he wasn’t a berk, if Bofur needed some additional rest one night Fíli had two perfectly functional fists with whom he was sadly well-acquainted.  
  
Besides he was certainly handsome enough, always looked after his braids and beard he did, and- Fíli discretely smelled his armpit – he definitely didn’t smell bad unlike some he could mention. (Bifur in particular.)  
  
Oh, and he was the heir to the throne! Surely that was impressive just on its own.  
  
A thought struck him. Was Bofur already tumbling someone else in their group? Or did someone else already hold his interest?  
He _had_ been spending a lot of time with their little burglar, and if that was the case Fíli would be doing him a favour if he put a stop to it. Really, because it was quite obvious the Hobbit only had eyes for Fíli’s grump of an uncle, and he knew Kíli was already making plans for how to get the two together in an attempt to get their uncle to loosen up a little. A smidge. A- well, maybe he would smile twice every year at least.  
  
In any case, wasn’t it obvious that Fíli would be a much better bedmate than Bilbo? (Thorin was more than welcome to the Hobbit though.)  
  
Their burglar seemed a shy sort, inexperienced, whereas Fíli knew all sorts of interesting things about how to get someone off, several times in one night even. It hadn’t been easy to learn what with an overprotective uncle lurking around every corner of Ered Luin where a young Dwarf could, erm, get someone to polish his sword, but once he and Kíli had learnt to create distractions to cover for one another he had at least been successful half the times.  
  
And he had had nothing but compliments from his bedpartners! If he had known about Bofur’s future refusal he would have gotten them to sign a letter of recommendation. Perhaps that would have convinced Bofur to at least try him.  
  
Because when he had offered a no-strings-attached demonstration of his prowess Bofur had even looked less interested, almost as if he-  
  
This time the thought didn’t strike him as much as it took a mountain sized lump of rock and lobbed it at his head.  
  
Bofur had turned him down. Turned down his proposal of a bit of bedsport between friends, _almost_ as if he wanted something which wasn’t just for fun. Was Bofur in fact looking for something serious and that was why he was making cow-eyes at the Hobbit and Fíli’s uncle, because it was obvious that those two were heading towards something serious, (Fíli didn’t understand why Kíli just couldn’t leave the pair alone to sort out their own business) as soon as Thorin stopped carrying the entire weight of Erebor on his shoulders and instead made room for a little burglar to climb him like a tree.  
  
Making a grimace at the thought of his uncle having “relations” (he _definitely_ should point out the downsides of this project to Kíli) Fíli tried to turn his thoughts back to the task at hand.  
  
If Bofur wanted something permanent, well, then Fíli was still the right Dwarf to give it to him! After all, he had already realised Bofur was the best kind of companion.  
  
The answer to both their problems was obvious, tomorrow, Fíli would start his courtship of Bofur!

-

The next morning Fíli realized that he had no idea what so ever how to go about a courtship, at least not while on a quest to reclaim their home from a dragon likely harboring the intentions to eat them all and then stomp on their bone- Fíli stopped his line of thoughts before he made himself disheartened.  
  
The thing was that being on the road cruelly limited the options of a proper courtship.  
  
He could not simply start out as normal; buying Bofur a pint of ale, because there were no pints of ale lying around in the middle of nowhere to be bought!  
  
(If there were Fíli would suspect trickery, and would not dare to give them to Bofur, so perhaps it was for the best. An well-stocked inn would not go amiss though.)  
  
He also couldn’t present Bofur with any sort of gifts worthy of one courted by the heir to the throne. No jewels, no armour made of precious metal, not even a finely carved pipe (is own plain one would not do to offer Bofur). All Thorin had advised to take with them was the bare essentials and a few coins should they stumble upon an inn, well-stocked or not.  
  
That had seem sensible enough before Fíli had realized he would be involved in a courtship, now it just struck him as horribly short-sighted and he would gladly have smacked his former self hard on the head. It wasn’t like a sapphire or two would have taken up much space, and now they were just lying around back in his chambers doing absolutely nothing of worth. It wouldn't even be collected dust because his mother would likely send someone to clean.  
  
Although, perhaps sapphires would have been a poor choice. Bofur’s eyes were more green than blue, and they crinkled adorably when he smiled, which he did pleasingly often.  
  
Fíli wondered if he would smile and laugh a lot in bed too. It was awfully nice when you found someone not only to touch and pleasure (and turnabout is fair game of course) but also someone who would lie next to you and laugh about nothing at all, but hard enough so you’d feel it rumbling in their chest.  
  
What would Bofur’s chest look like? The Dwarf had been a miner, and that mattock of his had to weigh a great deal, so he probably-  
  
“What _are_ you thinking about?” Kíli said straight into his right ear, and Fíli did most assuredly not jump a feet in the air, nor did he utter any sound except maybe some type of fighting cry.  
Thankfully, regardless of what he might or might not have done, it would have been seen by no one, because after preparing breakfast (it had been his turn) he had moved away a distance from the rest of the company to give himself some peace and quiet to make his plans.  
  
“Do not sneak up on me,” Fíli growled and gave his brother a shove. “Or I will assume you are an Orc and-“  
  
“What?” Kíli grinned. “Will you stab me with the swords still next to your bedroll? Dear brother, something is most definitely on your mind this morning.”  
  
Before he could halt his mouth Fíli heard himself say:  
  
“If there is it is definitely no business of yours.”  
  
Immediately after he could have stabbed himself with something sharp. There was no surer way of making his brother interested than telling him that something was NOT of his concern.

“No,” Fíli growled at his brother whose eyes sparkled with merriment and curiosity alike. “There is nothing on my mind, nor will there be anything left in yours unless your eyes stop their infernal twinkling.”  
  
“You’ve never been a good liar,” Kíli scolded, still grinning broadly.  
  
“Shouldn’t you make sure Bilbo sits next to the Uncle while they eat?” Fíli said, desperate enough for a change of subject to risk his uncle’s wrath should this particular conversation ever be known to him. “Perhaps that would help. Tell him Uncle always has wanted to hear about gardening or life in Hobbiton.”  
  
“It won’t help at all,” Kíli said morosely. “At least not if I suggest it.”  
  
 _Yes!_  
Fíli inwardly cheered over his brother’s flighty personality. His plot had worked. Outwardly he frowned.  
  
“What have you done to the Hobbit, Kíli?”  
  
“I just wanted to make him stand up a little for himself!” Kíli moaned. “You know Thorin won’t act on any feelings he might have if he thinks the Hobbit is scared of him. So last night I thought that if I pay our good burglar a few compliments, let him know he is appreciated, so he would feel better about himself and be braver.”  
  
“I don’t see the harm in that?” Fíli said confused.  
  
“The harm is that now he thinks that _I’m_ interested in him!”  
  
Kíli, realizing he had perhaps been a little loud nervously looked around for the hulking shadow of their uncle.  
  
“His eyes got as big as goose eggs,” Kíli hissed, clearly frustrated, and also, quite horrified. “And then he politely told me that while I was lovely – _lovely_! he did not feel that way about me at all- stop _laughing_! He has been looking nervously at me ever since last night, and when Uncle finds out – which he will-“  
  
Faintly, in the back of his mind Fíli heard his brother turn his rant to how he felt insulted that Bilbo would think him someone to not take no for an answer, especially when he hadn’t even meant to ask the question in the first place - but despite making the odd nod here and there, Fíli was no longer paying attention.  
  
The blond Dwarf had realized that if a few compliments could get Bilbo to mistake Kíli’s friendship for interest then that clearly was the way to go to start his courting of Bofur.  
  
After all, Fíli wanted to be both Bofur’s friend and his bedmate. It was a foolproof way to start his plan!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	2. If You Can't Say Anything Nice, Be Vague

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli starts his courtship. Bofur isn't too impressed (yet). Kíli is a brat. Bilbo is confused. Thorin, well, he's Thorin.

Clearly there was no time like the present, especially when every hour brought you closer to a – what _had_ Bofur called it – ‘a furnace with wings’?  
  
When Fíli returned to the rest of the company, more or less dragging a protesting Kíli behind him (whose hissed protests had grown more agitated the closer they had gotten to camp - “Thorin will know by now and even _if_ he isn’t interested in Bilbo, hah, he would not take kindly to-“ the blond Dwarf had decided to put step one of his plan into action as soon as possible.  
  
Bofur sat together with his brother on the an overturned trunk of a tree, just finishing up his breakfast. Having rapidly gotten to know the nature of Bombur, Fíli guessed the rotund Dwarf probably was finishing up his second breakfast. If not third.  
  
Ori and Nori sat byt the fire, also eating the porridge Fíli had made and everyone else was milling around, gathering up their bedrolls and preparing for another day on the road, or well, on pony back.  
  
Bilbo _did_ seem to be casting an aweful lot of  nervous glances at Fíli’s scowling brother, who in turned cast nervous glances at their uncle. Vowing that he would do anything to _not_ get in the middle of that mess, Fíli quickly turned his gaze away from Bilbo before the Hobbit would get the wrong idea yet again.  
This brought his eyes back to Bofur.  
  
What should he say? ‘ _I like your hat._ ’ Too trite. ‘ _I like your eyes_.’ As if Bofur wouldn’t have heard that before. ‘ _I like to know what you look like unclothed_.’ Too forward, too much like his earlier words. Obviously that had not been the way to go about getting the Dwarf into his bed(roll).  
  
Well, he had always thought best on his feet. Taking a deep breath Fíli walked up to Bofur, who now merely sat basking in the sun.  
  
“Shouldn’t you be packing?” All right, that was not a compliment, but at least he was talking to Bofur.  He hadn’t sounded disapproving had he? Fíli, worried his lower lip for just a second. He hadn’t meant to anyway. Luckily, Bofur did not seem to take offence.  
  
“Already done,” he said with a smile, making the corner of his eyes wrinkle in a most pleasing way. Though not in a way that lent itself to inspired commentary. ‘ _I like it when your skin wrinkle_ ’ would perhaps be even worse than praise for the hat.  
“Although, Bombur here isn’t,” Bofur continued and jabbed his elbow into his brother’s voluminous stomach. “Having been occupied with _much_ more important things.”  
  
Ah, it seemed that Fíli’s theory regarding that particular bowl of porridge was correct. It had not been the only meal this morning to see the inside of that belly.  
  
“It’s good,” Bombur defended, making Fíli smile.  
  
“I’m glad it pleased you,” he said.  
  
Really, what he was most glad of was that Bofur was not making things awkward between them. No weird glances, no skittish looks. Just the normal warm squinting from those twinkling eyes. Gah. This was not going well. Fíli couldn’t call his eyes _squinty_! That was not a compliment, even though it was, because Fíli _liked_ when Bofur squinted. It made him feel like the other was looking at him all that more intently. Made him wonder what it would feel like to have that gaze all over him, just the two of them alone, by a cosy fire, no clothe-  
  
Focus! He had to focus. This was not going well at all. Bombur had left, either to pack or to get more porridge, and now there was only Fíli and Bofur sitting side by side. Quietly sitting side by side. _Any_ second it would turn awkward so Fíli going to have to man up and say something that was nice, which wasn’t stupid, and which would make Bofur start to realize that Fíli would be just the Dwarf for him during their quest.  
  
“Bofur,” Fíli began and debated putting his hand on the other Dwarf’s leg. Knee. Thigh? Better not. “Bofur, I like… I like…” The words would not come! Curses and damnation. “Bofur I like- you!”  
  
Looking a little surprised, but thankfully still not skittish, Bofur tilted his head.  
“I didn't think you'd want to tup me if you didn't, lad,” he said, and Fíli deflated slightly.

Being called a _lad_ while getting rejected again.  
If this day continued in any shape or form like this morning he would be eaten before supper for sure.  
  
A loud commotion from across the camp called for both their attention.  
As Nori later would later tell Fíli, what had transpired was that Bilbo had tried to keep one eye on Kíli, while at the same time readying his pony, and as Kíli had been behind him at the time getting his own mount ready it had caused Bilbo's pony to take offence at the distracted hands (hands not even that skilled to beging with), poking around at her head. So she had decided to express her distaste by neighing loudly. That in turn had caused Bilbo fall backward in surprise, straight into the arms of Kíli who had caught the Hobbit by mere reflex.

The sight that met Bofur’s and Fíli’s eyes was a squirming and blushing Hobbit being pressed to Kíli’s chest, who in turn looked torn between just dumping the Hobbit on the ground or burying himself in it. For just outside of Bilbo’s field of view, but well within Kíli's stood Thorin, face a thundercloud.

  
Fíli made a mental oath to not, regardless of what foul means his brother would use to get it out of him when he remembered, under any circumstances, tell Kíli about his plans to court Bofur. 

At least it made his own attempts seem comparatively succesful, Fíli mused, when Kíli finally came out of his paralysis (nobody could glare quite like their uncle) and put Bilbo back on his feet, proceeding to grumpily storm off while bemoaning his fate.  
Thorin abruptly walked off into the other direction, and Bilbo was left to bemusedely calm two disgruntled ponies.


	3. Let the Chaos Commence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli is an awesome big brother and Kíli is turning even more into a teenaged girl (only with access to sharp weapons).

The rest of the day did not go much better in terms of courting and compliments than the morning had gone.

It was hard to go about either when your king and uncle decided that you and your idiot brother should ride ahead of everyone to scout. As if anything needed scouting when they weren’t even out of the Shire yet. What could happen? Would a cow attack? Would a disgruntled gardener come after them because their ponies had stomped on a plant? Would an Orc suddenly fall from the sky? Fíli thought all three scenarios were highly unlikely.  
  
Though it would be funny to see an Orc fall out of the sky, the impact would probably push the creature’s  spine right out of its nose.  Fíli snickered, then tried to turned it into a cough when his brother scowled at him.  
  
Kíli was in a foul mood. If he hadn’t known better Fíli would almost think his brother w _as_ interested in the Hobbit, but when he had suggested it earlier Kíli had looked genuinely shocked at the idea and denied it, and as it hadn’t seemed like he was lying (Fíli could almost, almost, _almost_ always tell) that couldn’t be it.  
  
“Surely you don’t really think Uncle would hurt you even if he thought you harboured desire for the Hobbit,” Fíli questioned when it seemed no topic of conversation would be forthcoming from his normally prattling brother.

“Hurt me, no,” Kíli glowered. “But unless I started properly courting Bilbo he would scowl at me until I did, and if it’s not yet check sunk into your thick head, brother, I do not wish to court Bilbo.” Face turning pensive Kíli added: “Besides, Thorin is even less likely to do something if he thinks I have feelings for our burglar, or, banish the thought, if he thinks Bilbo’s feelings lies with me.”  
  
“ _Why_ are you so obsessed of getting those two together?” Fíli asked, really not understanding why Kíli so quickly seemed to have invested so much in a pairing when he wasn’t even one of the two. “I mean, I’d like to see Uncle happy as much as anyone, but really, why not let them sort it out on their own?”

“I just think _someone_ ought to be with the one they love,” Kíli muttered, only to blanch when he realised what he had given away.  
  
“Brother-“  
  
“I do _not_ wish to talk about this,” Kíli growled and motioned his pony ahead of Fíli’s.

While that was fair enough considering Fíli had no intention to talk about his attempts to get Bofur to share his bedroll, it hurt Fíli to see his brother hurt.  
  
They had always been extremely close. Merely five years separating siblings was very unusual, it was far more normal to have brothers be much older or younger than yourself.  With Dori, Nori and Ori over a century separated the oldest from the youngest. Or take Balin and Dwalin who most would consider fairly close in age, even though it was over thirty years.

Even so, not knowing who Kíli wanted to bed was fine, preferable even, and the same could be said for a certain uncle. But if Kíli had given his heart to someone it was his _duty_ as a big brother to make sure the other party did not clomp all over it. And judging by the miserable look in Kíli’s eyes he was rather failing his big brother duties.  
Unless… it was just the distance between him and the other that bothered Kíli. Had he left someone behind in Ered luin when they had left for their quest?  
   
Not impossible but it seemed unlikely. Kíli had been in a splendid mood when they started their journey together, overjoyed of being allowed to come. And that mood had continued when they were on the road towards Hobbiton. It wasn't until they had left Bilbo’s home the moodiness and desperate attempts to pair their uncle and hobbit together had started.  
Of course, the latter could hardly have started any earlier.  
   
Fíli once again considered that Kíli really was interested in their burglar and perhaps held back only due to the knowledge of Thorins feelings. It still didn’t seem very likely, but if he was honest neither did Thorin’s feelings for the hobbit. Bilbo didn't even have any whiskers!  
   
Nevertheless, sometime the heart wanted what the heart wanted and made a mess out of things. Better so to stick to being friends who occasionally _slept_ , (okay, and did more) together. If only Bofur would be so kind to go along with Fíli’s plan.  
  
Fili sighed.  
   
He didn't want to make the other dwarf uncomfortable though. Not that it was likely Bofur would behave as Bilbo was doing with Kíli. If Bofur really _really_ wanted Fili to stop he'd either say so (here Fili ignored that he had been turned down once, if not twice already because _obviously_ that was just because Bofur didn’t understand Fíli’s full potential just yet) or he'd let Fili know in a more physical manner. _Or_ he'd send Bombur to sit on him in the night and call it and accident. That would let anyone know their attentions were not desired.  
   
A short while later when Kíli had stopped pressing his heels to the belly of his pony and Fíli caught back up with him, his brother seemed his cheerful self again, only the barest of strain around his eyes revealing that the smile was forced.  
In a way Fili was glad to see it as it meant he still could read his brothers face, which meant it probably was true that he didn't have more than friendly feelings for Bilbo.

It would be such a mess if he had…  
   
Thorin had always let himself come second to the needs of his family and as a grown Dwarf it shamed Fili that there were so few things he could do for his uncle in return. He knew Kili felt the same way so _if_ both his uncle and his brother would have feelings for Bilbo it would be a tragedy as neither would act on them.

  
Fili agreed with his brother that their Hobbit had a soft spot for Thorin, but that would matter little unless Bilbo would bind Thorin to the bed and - okay stopping that line of thoughts right now. The point was that Thorin would not let anything happen between himself and any love interest of his nephews.  
  
Great. It seemed he not only had to make plans to court Bofur, it would be up to him to sort out the rest of his family's relationships as well.  
Okay. If Kili _hadn't_ left someone behind in the Blue Mountains, then his love would have to be among their company.   
Thorin had sent them ahead of himself so that they could make arrangement for ponies and buy supplies, but no one they had met on road could warrant his little brother giving his heart away.  So clearly it had to be someone in their group.  
   
Fíli felt his eyes widened in sudden realization.  
Oh no, what if he wanted Bofur? As previous reasoned, Bofur was the clearly the best out of the lot. But if his brother _loved_ him...  
  
Growing inordinate morose at the thought of his brother and Bofur (he must have looked forward to bedding Bofur more than he had realised) Fíli nonetheless tried to cheer himself up.  
It wasn't _certain_ it would be Bofur after all. Kíli had always had strange taste; otherwise Fili would hardly have considered that Bilbo could have been the one.  
  
He was getting away from the subject though. Because scrawny beard or not Kili was comely enough, and a good fighter - even with his fondness for the flimsy piece of string and wood he called a bow – not to mention that he was a prince (though not the heir). Who in their right minds could have turned him down if he declared his love? Unless…  
  
"it's not Glóin is it?" Fili asked feeling slightly horrified. Glóin was a decent enough fellow, he was _married_ , even had a little sprog back home!  
  
"It's not Glóin who is what?" Kili asked confused and slowed his pony.  
  
"The one you want to-" Fili made a slightly rude but very telling gesture.  
  
"Did someone steal your memory while I looked in the other direction," Kíli hissed. "I said I am not talking about this."  
  
"So it _is_ him? But Kíli, he is _married_!"  
  
"Mahal give me strength, Kíli muttered. "Of course it is not him."  
  
"But who else would turn you down?" Fili asked ,ignoring the way his brother’s hand had started to slip towards his knife.  It just didn’t make sense. He- oh… OH…

  
"You haven't told him!"  
  
After Fíli’s exclamation Kíli looked a bit like a hedgehog about to be eaten by a goblin. Prickly, but very defenseless for all of that. Between clenched teeth he ground out:  
  
"I said, we are not talking about this."  
Then he motioned his pony along once again.  
   
Clearly it would be up to Fíli to sort everything out. Or, Thorin and Bilbo would sort themselves out sooner or later, of that he was sure.  
After the Hobbit had been in peril a couple of times Thorin would hardly be able to keep himself from personally checking that he was not hurt. Bilbo would know Thorin cared for him, and that would be that.  
At least if Fíli first convinced them both that Kíli was just a twit and had no designs what so ever on the Hobbit.  
   
It was fortunate that Fili was such a capable Dwarf. Othwerwise he would hardly be able to both conduct a courtiship of his own _and_  help his family at the same time. Not to mention that he was also on a quest of uttermost importance.  
   
Okay. Now he needed a new plan. To start he would just have to work out who the lucky Dwarf was, and then get him together with his brother.  
It couldn't be Thorin or himself. And again, unless Kíli had gotten better at lying it wasn’t Glóin.  
  
Crossing his fingers for luck he took both Bilbo and Gandalf off the list as well.  
  
Only nine left. On first glance Fíli definitely wanted to remove some more names from his list, but as previous mentioned: the heart wanted what the heart wanted so he didn't dare cross anyone out. Not even Oín or Bifur. But he would leave them for last as he investigated. Oíns bad hearing and Bifur’s, _difficulties_ , would make it hard to discreetly talk to them about his brother.  
  
Discreet would be hard enough anyway as Fíli knew the nature of his people, and that nature was less inclined towards quiet and more towards, well noise.  
  
Thorin making a large exception. Fíli figured he had to take after his uncle as he didn't see fit to share _every_ thought passing through his brain like Kíli did. Though it was lucky he did let his tongue slip when he did or Fíli would have been oblivious. Apparently his little brother was better at keeping secrets than previously suspected.  
   
Oh well, it wouldn’t be a secret for very much longer. If Thorin would persist in sending them on meaningless scouting Fíli would make good use of that time.

  
Soon enough Thorin would have his Hobbit, Kíli would have his Dwarf, and Fíli could concentrate once again on getting Bofur to notice Fíli’s many charms.  
  
What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonder who Kíli might be in love with... *looks innocent* Who do you think?


	4. Beware Disgruntled Hobbits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are secrets talks aplenty, but romance still seems to hover just outside reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your comments! It seems Dwalin and Ori are definitely the favourites. Stay with me to eventually find out just who this mysterious love of Kíli is. ;)

"My brother does not want to bed you."  
  
Judging by the way Bilbo currently was choking on his supper Fíli should perhaps have phrased that a little more gently. But time was of the essence, and at least this way made sure to clear away _all_ the confusion regarding the matter. Quite honestly, one day of being a useless scout was quite enough, thank you. If Bilbo stopped looking at Kíli like the Dwarf might bite do _things_ to him, then perhaps Fíli would be spared another day like it.  
  
Good for plotting or not, he would need no plots at all if he ended up strangling himself out of sheer boredom.  
  
Fíli had considered following his first statement with ‘But my uncle does’. However that would likely be overdoing it for now. That wasn’t why he had cornered the Hobbit. Not to mention that he didn’t have foolproof knowledge that Bilbo really was interested in Thorin like that. It could be merely hero-worship.  Going up against a dragon _and_ an army of Orcs was pretty impressive after all. Especially the way Balin told it. And if Bilbo really didn’t want to do _that_ with Thorin, but found out Thorin did want to with him, well, then Fíli did not want to be the one who got the blame for it.  
  
After _subtly_ watching Bilbo all night – he did _not_ want a repeat of the Kíli incident – Fíli had finally managed to get them alone together without making it seemed like he deliberately had set it up to be that way.  He just happened to come strolling along, merely stretching his legs, and stumbled upon the Hobbit sitting all by his lonesome, how sad.  
Quite a coincidence that Dwalin had started entertaining the group with all the gruesome details of the fights he had been in, just when Bilbo was about to eat.

Almost as if someone who shall not be named had happened to remind his brother, very loudly, that Dwalin had not yet told them the whole story behind that time he came back to Thorin’s halls with bloodied axes, wearing only a sack - which kept slipping down. Everyone had taken the bait and started pestering Dwalin for details. Kíli had still seemed a little subdued, but when Fíli had left he and Nori had been sitting together and Kíli at least appeared to be caught up in Dwalin's story.  
  
So here he and Bilbo were, alone, or as alone as one could possibly get when everyone tried to stay within shouting distance of each other in case of trouble. But! Unlike the rest of this group Fíli could be discreet. However it would seem he was quite alone in that…  
  
As Bilbo continued to sputter Fíli started to fear the Hobbit would turn blue from the lack of air, or draw the unwanted attention of Thorin to them.  
  
"Sssh," Fíli cautioned. "No need for that. I thought you would be relived. Or was I wrong in that assumption?" Say no, say no.

“Of course I don’t want to do- _that_!” Bilbo hissed when he could finally draw breath again.  
  
Well, he didn’t have to sound just that put off. There wasn’t anything wrong with Kíli after all. His thoughts must have been visible on his face, because Bilbo frowned at him.  
  
"Oh, stop that. I already told _him_ there's no need for that face. It's just… "  
  
"He is too young for you?" Fíli suggested hopefully, thinking of their uncle as a prime candidate if Bilbo wanted someone more experienced.  
  
Bilbo gave him a strange look. "Aren't you Dwarfs probably all a lot older than me?"  
   
"Ah, age really doesn't matter anyway," Fili backtracked when he realized that his uncle might be a little _too_ old if Bilbo started thinking about it. How long did Hobbits live anyway? Would Thorin get his act together just to see Bilbo die of old age? That was very depressing. Maybe he should casually point that out to his uncle if it seemed nothing would happen because surely that'd make Thorin act.  
Giving up on his uncle’s love life for the moment he decided to go about his actual errand.  
  
As Kíli had refused to speak to him for almost the entirety of their scouting Fíli had had plenty of time to hash out the first stages of a plan to figure out who the object of his brother’s desires was. And the first step was to get Bilbo in on it at Fíli couldn’t be everywhere at once. Especially not if he wanted any time to work on his own desires.

Shuffling a little closer to the Hobbit, Fíli lowered his voice so they wouldn’t be overheard.  
  
"Bilbo, can you be discreet?"  
  
"Fili..." Bilbo started to say, looking might uncomfortable. Recognizing his brother’s description of the shocked egg-eyed look Fíli acted quickly.  
  
"I’m not interested in you!"  
 _Really_ , why couldn’t the Hobbit just open his eyes properly and actually see the one Durin who _did_ fancy him. If you had to go about thinking people in love with you then you could at least be a little open minded to the one that actually were.  
  
Despite Bilbo looking doubtful, (really, the blond Dwarf felt like crying over the Hobbit’s thick-headedness) Fíli bravely soldiered on with his plan.

"It's Kíli,” he explained. “He likes someone, loves them even - still not you though, and I'd like to help him. It is one of our company, but I can't figure out who it is!”  
  
"And you think I can?" There was a new version of doubtful on Bilbo’s face. But at least he didn't questioned Fíli's knowledge of his brother's feelings.  
  
“You are the only one who can!” Fíli exclaimed, but quietly. He was a Dwarf of great discretion after all. “And you are to be our burglar! No time like the present to practice your lurking ability.”  
  
The way Fíli had figured it was thatBilbo was small enough to be overlooked most of the time. This was excellent news as this meant that Bilbo could keep an eye on Kíli when Fíli couldn’t, and observe if his brother acted strange around anyone in their group.  
  
Oh no.  
  
Fíli abruptly realised the downside of this plan. I would be a very bad idea to have Bilbo watching Kíli for great lengths of time. Small he might be, but there was a certain uncle who couldn’t keep his eyes of him for very long. If Thorin saw Bilbo staring intenetly at Kíli for long periods of time he would get completely the wrong idea, _again_.  
  
"On second thought,” Fíli swiftly added and stood up. “I think I was mistaken. Please, forget I said anything."

“Now wait just a moment,” Bilbo said, looking affronted. “You think I can’t do it, don’t you?”  
  
“No, no,” Fíli protested, but it was no use.  
  
“I know you all think I’m not very good at anything,” Bilbo went on, puffing out his chest and raising is voice.    
  
“You are an excellent cook!” Fíli tried to interject, but the Hobbit would not be stopped.  
  
“-and I might not be very good at this fighting business, or riding ponies – though I have gotten better at that if I do say so myself. And if I’d choose to spend my days staring at your brother then I am certainly more than capable of it!”

Bilbo had gotten progressively louder and louder throughout his rant, and Fíli had the horrible suspicion that the Hobbit’s last sentence could have been heard by Oín even without his hearing aid.

What was even worse was that Fíli had a good idea how that same sentence would have sounded in ears which had not heard the bits preceding it.  
  
He was proven right just moments later when he followed a fuming Hobbit back to the camp and everyone turned to look at them. Except for Thorin who was nowhere to be seen. Bilbo didn’t notice and just plunked himself down next to Bombur and continued his meal inbetween resentful grumbles about all the things Hobbits could do that Dwarfs couldn’t.  
  
Clenching his fists Fíli finally dared to look at his brother.  
Kíli looked poleaxed. Though not in any way shape or form did he look _happy_. So at least that had cleared up the question of his brothers feelings once and for all.  How unfortunate everything else had gotten muddled in the process. He really ought to find out just how much his uncle had heard.  
   
He would have preferred to ask Balin, as he knew Balin would have seen everything that went on, but Balin sat next to Kili. So Dwalin it was then as the he a tendency to keep an eye on Thorin in case of trouble.

Thankfully he did not even have to ask. As he walk up to Dwalin the other Dwarf merely looked up at him, shook his head wearily and pointed a big thumb towards the forest.  
  
“Disappeared faster than a hooker’s knickers,” he drawled, rolling his eyes at Ori when the young Dwarf giggled. “What _was_ that, lad?”  
  
“Certainly not what it sounded like,” Fíli muttered.  
  
“Well you better do something about it, whatever it was,” Dwalin growled, and prompted by Ori he continued where he left of his story.  
  
Deciding he needed some sort of reward before he went Uncle-hunting, Fíli went to sit by Bofur, who together with Dori and Bifur sat a little distance away from the fire.  
   
“Um,” Dori said, as Fíli threw himself down on the ground.  
  
“I completely agree,” Fíli sighed.  
  
Bofur, bless him, looked sympathetically at him. But before the only bright spot of his day had the chance to speak, a hand curled itself in Fíli’s collar and dragged him backwards into the forest.  
  
Kíli.

His brother dragged him for quite a distance, ignoring Fíli’s increasingly louder protests.

“What was _that_ ,” Kíli growled at him as he shoved him against a tree.” What did you _do_?”  
  
“How do you know I did anything?” Fíli whined and struggled against his hold, when had his little brother gotten so strong? “Bilbo was the one who said it.”

“I know because there is no way that meant what it sounded like. What did you do to him to make him say that? And WHY?”  
  
Well that Fíli couldn’t share. Fortunately Kíli shook his head almost immediately after asking his questions and let Fíli go.  
“That doesn’t matter now,” he said. “But you need to find Uncle and tell him exactly what happened before he crawls into a ditch somewhere and dies of a broken heart.”

“Come now,” Fíli protested. “That’s hardly going to happen.”  
  
“Yeah?” Kíli challenged and gestured with his hand back towards camp. “How much would you have bet on him falling for a Hobbit in the first place.”  
  
Okay, fair point. But a ditch? Thorin would just go brood and repress everything, then he would go right back to mooning over Bilbo once again. Dwarfs were creatures of habit after all. But-  
  
“I’ll tell him when he gets back,” Fíli promised, feeling a little bad about what he, however accidentally, had been part of.  
  
“I’ll just- I can tell him I wanted to let Bilbo know that he misunderstood your friendliness for more, and that he didn’t have to be at all weary of unwanted advances. So if he wanted to stop staring at you like he’s been -you know, like you’re going to eat him in some very _unpleasant_ way - and -.” Fíli snapped his fingers.  
“Oh, and then Bilbo took offence at the suggestion that he could not defend himself and said what he said. I can even pretend I didn’t know Uncle heard it, make it sound like he missed something funny.”  
  
Feeling mighty good about himself  - he was the _king_ of plans, Fíli folded his arms across his chest and smiled widely at his brother. Kíli looked slightly impressed, for half a moment, then he looked suspicious and crossed his own arms.  
  
“So what _did_ you say to our burglar?”  
  
“Nothing!” Fíli lied. Badly. “Nothing at all.” The second time did not sound any more convincing. Fine.  
“Or well, I _did_ actually tell him that you didn’t at all want to bed him. And I think he actually understood it.”

Blinking a few times Kíli let that sink in. 

“Kíli,” Fíli began, meaning to ask again about this mysterious Dwarf (because please don’t let it be Gandalf) but-  
  
“You should not be out here alone,” Thorin rumbled, having suddenly appeared beside them. The brothers both jumped.  
  
“Uncle!” Fíli exclaimed. No time like the present after all. “I noticed you were not in camp just now. I believe you missed tonight’s entertainment.”  
  
As he went about his explanation Fíli very sincerely wished for it to work.  If it did then at least Uncle and the Hobbit would go back to what they were before Kíli had messed it up. And while that was likely not where either of them really _wanted_ to be, Fíli had every confidence that they _would_ sort it out. Unlike his idiot of a brother who clearly would probably put his boots on the wrong foot unless Fíli was around to help him.  
  
Kíli was _damned_ lucky he had Fíli to help him. And possibly Bilbo. Though Fíli really ought to explain to the Hobbit why staring at his brother was not a good idea before he had to do this all over again. He didn’t have time for this! He had Bofur to court and so far today he had barely seen the other  Dwarf. And now it was getting late enough for everyone to go to sleep.  

This was _not_ how he had intended to go about his courtship.  
  
Happily, the explanation worked well enough. Thorin walked them back to camp, seeming more relaxed than he had been in days, and even forgetting to growl at them for being away from the group without their weapons. Kíli seemed relieved as well and perked back up to his usual sunny self.  
  
In their absence the rest of the company had prepared for the night. Dwalin and Balin sat together on watch, smoking their pipes, but the rest of the Dwarfs, and Hobbit, had unrolled their bedrolls and retired.  
  
The only thing visible of Bilbo’s from where Fíli was standing was the curls on top of his head, and it was hard to judge if he still was grumpy or not.  Either way that would have to wait for the morning.  
  
Having realised he was exhausted Fíli looked for where he had left his own pack but did not see it. Then his eyes found it placed on his bedroll, which had been laid out next to Bofur’s. (And Bombur’s, and Nori’s, but who cared about that.)  
  
Valiantly abstaining from doing a happy dance, Fíli very much hoped it had been done deliberately. Or well, with some sort of intent, because he doubted his bedroll had been just thrown there without any care at all for how it settled.

As he drew closer Bofur opened his eyes and gazed at him with a smile. Clearly there was some deity looking out for Dwarfs who looked out for their kin.  
  
Ever present, the hat shadowed Bofur’s eyes, but Fíli could still see them twinkling well enough in the light coming from the banked fire.  
  
“Everything okay?,” Bofur asked softly as to not disturb the sleeping folks around them.   
  
Fíli slumped down on his bedroll with a low groan.  
  
“Getting there,” he said honestly. Crossing his fingers Thorin would not send him to scout tomorrow Fíli rolled to face Bofur.  
  
“Would you ride by me tomorrow?” he asked, daring to put his hand on Bofur’s arm. “To tell me of Erebor?”  
  
“Haven’t your uncle has told you all the stories already?” Bofur answered, casting an unreadable look down at the hand, but not removing it. However, not wanting to seem too pushy _again_ , Fíli did so himself.  
  
“I doubt it,” Fíli snorted, but any other words he might have said were devoured in a large yawn.

Bofur laughed.  
“Well if I bore you I now know what expression of yours I will be seeing.”  
  
Perhaps grinning a little too widely Fíli rolled onto his back again, wishing Bofur a good night.  
  
“Sleep well, Fíli,” came the reply, and by the noise, Bofur had settled down as well.  
  
In the end, Fíli mused, this day hadn’t been so bad after all.  
Then Bombur started snoring.


	5. Dreams and Fantasies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli has new tactics in how to make Bofur fall into bed with him, though the one actually working the best might be the one he’s not even aware of.  
> Fíli also isn’t allowed to ever call Bilbo the blind one ever again.
> 
> Also: Thorin will admit to having squishy things like feelings somewhere around… never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for the comments and kudos! You make me want to continue this as soon as possible :)

Despite the nice ending to Fíli’s evening, his dreams were _not_ sweet that night.  
  
Instead of dreaming of a warm embrace and rough but gentle hands he woke well before dawn with the lingering traces of fear on his mind.  
  
Sitting up and putting his arms around his knees Fíli’s eyes automatically sought out his brother - snoring next to him, and then they moved to Thorin, who slept a little apart from the rest of the group, but curiously close to a certain hobbit for all of that. Both seemed fine. And very asleep, so Fíli could comfort himself that unlike in his dream he had not screamed out loud, as he had done in the dream.  
  
In his dream their company had been calmly walking along a path, through a lush forest, when Bilbo had suddenly turned into Smaug and eaten Thorin and Kíli both, laughing all the while.  
   
Now awake the dream turned quickly absurd, as most dreams are apt to do upon waking, but the feeling of terror remained in Fíli's bones and when a hand suddenly gripped his shoulder Fíli grabbed the wrist on instinct and flipped the hand’s owner over his shoulder and down on the ground.  
  
Bofur landed with a fairly big thump and Fíli turned from alert to mortified in the blink of an eye.  
  
"Are you all right? I am _so_ sorry," he said voice anxious.  
  
"My own fault for sneaking up you, lad," Bofur said as he lay staring up into the sky, looking a little dazed.  
  
 _Great_. Fíli sighed quietly. We're back to _lad_ are we.  
  
Then he realised his hands somehow had become pressed to Bofur’s side and chest so Fíli quickly snatched them away, hoping the other dwarf hadn't noticed. It was just concern after all, but it wouldn’t do for Bofur to get the wrong idea and think he was copping a feel.  
  
Bofur slowly sat back up, something of a flush on his face.  
  
 _Even better_ , Fíli thought. Now he is embarrassed a mere 'lad' got the drop on him. This was very much not what his courtship plans needed.  
  
"Nightmare I take it?" Bofur asked and adjusted his hat as it had been pitched askew by his sudden flight and landing.  
  
Fíli nodded, awkwardly fingering his moustache. He had no intention of sharing the exact nature of that dream though.  Bilbo as a dragon might have been scary when he was asleep, but now it just seemed silly.  
  
"Were you on watch?" he asked instead, noting that Bombur was absent from his bedroll. At Bofur's nod he continued:  
"I'm not going to sleep more this night, if you wanted I could relieve you?"  
  
"Oh, I couldn't let you do that." Bofur shook his head.  
  
Of course not, Fíli thought a touch bitterly. Because what if the poor lad jumps at shadows once more and this time-  
  
"But if you wanted to join me and Bombur," Bofur offered. Interrupting the downward spiral of Fílis mood even more with his next words.  
"I could start telling you about Erebor."  
   
"Please," Fíli breathed, and started scrambling to find his pipe - all good stories demanded a good smoke – as he didn’t want to take too long about finding it. It was stupid, but it felt like Bofur would then change his mind.  
  
Turning away from Bofur, Fíli missed noticing how the Dwarf’s flush had deepened at the sound of Fíli’s hushed plea.  
   
"Join us when you're ready, lad," Bofur said as he stood up. "No rush."  
   
At Bofurs slightly strained tone of voice Fíli looked up from where he was kneeling on his bedroll, and angled his head towards the other Dwarf.  
   
"Are you sure you are okay?" he questioned.  
   
Bofurs smile was as nice as usual but it did seem to be wavering a bit. Fíli was immediatly concerned again. Had he actually been hurt?  
  
Fíli instinctively shuffled forward on his knees before realising how silly he must have looked. Abandoning his pipe Fíli instead rose to his feet and without any prompting from himself Fíli found his hand reaching out for Bofur. Had there been rocks? Had he landed awkwardly? Had Fíli actually _hurt_ him?  
  
But before he could make contact with Bofur the older Dwarf had taken a step back turning to leave.  
  
"Just co- join us,  when you've found your pipe," Bofur said as he turned. "And don't worry about me. I'm just fine."  
  
Though he didn’t sound fine, and as Bofur walked away his gait was just slightly uneven, a little stiff.  
  
Fíli hit himself over the head. He was hopeless, this way he would never get Bofur to take him seriously.  
  
First he embarrasses himself by having a nightmare, like a _child_.  
Then he attacks Bofur when, oh Mahal, when Bofur came to check on him, likely because that's what you did to _children_ who had bad dreams.  
  
And now Bofur is possibly injured, but Fíli can’treally question him further about it for the chance that Bofur would take offence; either at being called a liar as he had said he was fine, or because he would think Fíli considered him weak due to being injured so easily.  
 _That_ was completely unfair as 'weak' was one word Fíli definitely wouldn’t use to describe Bofur. Besides, growing up with Kíli had certainly taught him that it was easy enough to pull something when you completely unprepared were sent flying.  
  
No longer as enthusiastically Fíli continued to search for his pipe.  
It would have been a lot better if he could just have closed his eyes as soon as he opened them and gone back to sleep. Perhaps the Bilbo-dragon would have eaten him first the second time around.  
  
When he joined the brothers at the fire they both seemed welcoming enough. Comforting a _child_ most like it, Fíli silently bemoaned. Though when Bofur started telling of how it had been down in the mines of Erebor, hunting for gems and gold, he soon forgot his woes. The fire was warm, and the solid wall of Bombur at his side was oddly comforting.  
  
Fíli had rather lost his desire for a smoke, but every so often he would find that his fingers not holding the pipe in his lap had started playing with the head of it, or slowly stroking the smooth stem.  
  
After it had happened a half-dozen times he got tired of himself and put the pipe in his mouth to lit after all. Sooner or later he would fumble it and drop it on the ground, and to embarrass himself more was _not_ something he wanted.  
  
Especially not as Bofur still seemed a little bit strange, occasionally he would lose his words and his eyes would turn a little distant. Perhaps had he hurt his head?  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to go to bed?" Fíli murmured, pursing his lips to blow another ring of smoke. Another offer of taking Bofur’s watch would surely be safe enough, wouldn’t it? He might had offered even if the earlier events hadn't happened.  
  
Bofur however, stiffened beside him at the words. Not so safe after all it would seem. Damnation. Now Bofur thought that Fíli believed him wea-  
  
"No,” Bofur said in an irritated voice. “I already told you before that I don’t intend to sleep with you."  
  
Fíli blinked and took the pipe out of his mouth before it fell due to a jaw slackened in shock. Then he cast a glance at Bombur, who _very_ intently looked at the fire.  
  
"I actually just meant you, to actually sleep," Fíli muttered, feeling hurt slip into his mind at another rejection. And this time it wasn’t even for something he had asked for, just, something he wanted.  
  
"Fíli…" Bofur began his eyes wide and remorseful. But Fíli didn't particularly want an apology.  
  
Throwing another look at Bombur who still did his very best to pretend he wasn’t there –and succeeding admirably for one of his size – Fíli summoned his courage. After all, it could hardly get worse than Bofur thinking him an idiotic, pushy child.  
  
"I do like you, you know,” Fíli said earnestly. “It's not just that I want to do-“ another sideways look at Bombur to check that he wasn't listening, or at least pretending not to-“not just that I want to do _that_."  
  
Bofur shook his head.  
"But you scarcely know me, so how can you even _tell_ if you like me."  
  
Fíli made himself think on that. It was true that he had not known Bofur for very long, but he had learnt enough to know that he wanted to the other Dwarf better. And he knew _more_ than enough to know that without Bofur by his side this quest would not be nearly as enjoyable. He had hoped Bofur might feel something similar, but perhaps he had been mistaken.  
  
"If that is what you believe,” Fíli settled on as a reply. “Then don't I at least deserve a chance to get to know you? And you me?"  
  
"Say yes," Bombur whispered but when they both turned to glare at him he was innocently studying the fire again.  
  
Deciding that there was no reason to hold back Fíli decided to come clean.  
  
"I would like to court you,” he said and dared to take Bofur’s hand. “I used the wrong words when I asked you into my bed before. I already consider you a friend, and I would be honoured if you would give me the chance to become something more.”

Bofur’s hand was warm inside his and Fíli restrained himself from clutching at it, just as he restrained himself from promising things he had no business promising.  
  
He knew he did not love Bofur. Bofur had been right that it still was early, not for affection, but surely for love. Though that didn't stop it from hurting when Bofur made to pull his hand back. Lowering his gaze Fíli loosened his own grip, but was surprised when Bofur merely turned his hand around to twine their fingers together.  
  
Also surprising was how the touch made Fíli’s heart skip a beat. No, it wasn’t love. But perhaps he would welcome it _if_ it did arrive.  
  
“Well, I approve,” Bombur said cheerfully. And Fíli recoiled a little in surprise, having forgotten that he and Bofur were not alone. “So that’s done away with, approval of family, tick it off.”  
  
“He’s hardly looking to marry me,” Bofur said with a crooked smile, and to Fíli’s disappointment he took his hand back. Well, that just wouldn’t do. Letting his pipe fall to the ground Fíli wrapped both his hands around Bofur’s.  
  
“Please don’t say no again,” he said and looked into Bofur’s eyes. For once they weren’t smiling and it only made his apprehension worse. “Or, of course you can say no, but don’t do it because you think I’m a child. When Thorin was little more than half my age he had already been at war.”  
  
To Fíli’s relief Bofur smiled a little at that, if still crooked, and squeezed his hand.  
“Believe me, I know you’re not a child. But do you really think that it’s wise to mention your uncle when talking about courting." The smile turned a little more like Bofur's usual warm grin. "No offence, lad, but with the speed he is going Bilbo will be safely tucked away back in the Shire before anything happens.”  
  
Fíli thought Bofur had a good point and would endeavour not to bring up Thorin as a good rolemodel under similar circumstances ever again, but first there was something he had to say. Something that could have a devestating effect on their budding courtship. Taking a steadying breath Fíli told Bofur:  
  
“I am _not_ a child, but I swear I will feed your hat into the fire if you call me _lad_ one more time.”  
  
At the side Bombur burst out laughing, and after a second Bofur followed, squeezing Fíli’s hand again, and this time it felt like apology and acceptance both.  
  
The brothers’ laugh was much too loud for the early hour, and the cause of it would be humiliating to explain to the rest of the Company should they wake, but Fíli found himself joining in nonetheless.  
  
The laugh seemed to have shook something loose in Fíli and when they stopped he found himself caught up in a yawn.

With a smile Bofur sent him back to bed, but it didn’t make Fíli feel like a child being scolded for staying up late. It just felt like Bofur cared, and that was a wonderful feeling indeed.  
  
Before he settled Fíli made a quick inspection of his companions, but it seemed as everyone was still sleeping.  
  
Kíli was still snoring, as did Oín and Glóin who seemed to be trying to outdo each other in volume. Gandalf appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but you could never quite tell with the Wizard. It was just as likely he would only pretend, but as long as he did so now Fíli would forgive him for it.  
  
Nori and Dori had curled up around their younger brother, ever protective. Thorin, Balin, Dwalin and Bifur all lay quietly, lost in their respective dreams.  
And as for the final member of their company, their burglar, he slept as well, breathy little snuffles occasionally being heard as he curled himself tighter into Thorin’s cloak. The cloak which had for the umpteenth time come to find itself _accidentally_ lying across Bilbo once the Hobbit had fallen asleep.  
  
Come morning would be gone as if it never had been there and so far Bilbo hadn't noticed exactly what he used as a blanket at night.  
  
It seemed it was a way for Thorin to claim the Hobbit, without actually having to alert Bilbo to the fact.  Everyone else knew about it and pretended very hard that it was normal. That it was merely a kindness to the Hobbit as he was not yet used to travel. It was quite possibly his uncle believed this too, or at least, that he had _believed_ it so.  
  
Not counting the first few days of their travels, the cloak had only been absent the night before when Thorin had believed Kíli to have feelings for the hobbit.  
However, and Fíli would bet his share of the treasure on this, if the night hadn’t been warm the cloak would only have been absent until Bilbo had started shivering.    
   
As he crept beneath his own cloak Fíli turned towards his brother’s sleeping face. Lost in dreams Kíli seemed very innocent, looking very much as he did when they were but young children. The thought sparked another hin Fíli's mind.  
  
Slowly as not to disturb him Fíli crept next to his brother. His voice gentle whispered into Kíli’s ear.  
  
“Brother?”  
  
He got a sleepy murmur as reply. _Excellent_.  
  
At times Kíli would sleep but still talk if prompted. It didn’t always make sense, but on a memorable occasion when they were children, Fíli had gotten his brother to reveal where he had hidden Fíli’s favourite toy – taken as revenge after a fight.  
By not telling how he had found it, Fíli had for a week been able to convince Kíli he could read minds. But apart from that occasion, the knowledge had been fairly useless to Fíli. Up until now....  
  
“Kíli, who do you love?”  
  
Another sleepy murmur, but at the end, something that _might_ have been a name.  
  
“Tell me who you want, Kíli. I promise I will help.”  
  
“Brrrd,” came the reply. That wasn’t very helpful, or good for that matter. It had sounded much too close to Bofur for Fíli to be satisfied.  
  
“Who do you love, Kíli?” Fíli prompted again, now a little nervously. And this time the reply was very clear and perfectly understandable.  
  
“Beard,” his brother said with a happy smile and sigh, his fingers curling as if finding themselves tangled into something.  
  
Well. That certainly didn’t narrow it down much.  And curses, it definitely didn’t rule out the Wizard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, new vote. Who is more delusional? Fíli as he thinks himself not in love. Fíli because he thinks Bofur really thinks of him as a child?  
> Or Thorin, on general principle.


	6. Cultural Differences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author makes up courtship rituals, Fíli is having an awesome morning, and Bilbo is the least of all sneaky soon-to-be burglars in Middle Earth.

Fíli had three simple goals for the day:  
Make sure Bilbo did not stare at Kíli.  
Spend time with Bofur.  
And before it became obvious as a result of goal number two, tell Thorin about the courtship.  
  
The second goal was obvious, the third mostly formality - though Fíli wanted to do it as a sign he was serious. But the first… that was a bit tricky.  
  
Fíli had to avoid a repetition of their last conversation, but he couldn't come right out and say that if Bilbo kept sending Kíli weird looks Thorin would get the wrong idea (again) because what if Bilbo questioned why Thorin would care.  
  
Wonderfully enough it was Bofur who came to Fíli’s aid. The (deliciously) rumpled Dwarf – Fíli longed for being the who caused Bofur’s clothes to look like that - simply sat himself down next to Bilbo during breakfast and asked:  
  
"So Bilbo, will you be busy staring at Kíli today or do you have the time to talk to my brother of cooking? He mentioned yesterday he wished to ask you something.”  
  
Around them, everyone fell silent for a moment. Then the noise turned back on again when they all realised they might possibly, most definitely, not want to get involved if this turned out to be another disaster. Fíli snuck an anxious glare towards his uncle who looked his usual stony self. Mahal, please let Bofur know what he was doing.

"Ah,” Bilbo said awkwardly and rubbed his neck. “I guess you all heard that yesterday."  
  
"Don’t you worry about it,” Bofur comforted. “Everyone is entitled to stare at whoever they wish.”  
  
Fíli _really_ hoped Bofur knew what he was doing.  
  
"I- well that's good to know?" Bilbo sounded confused, looking the part too, but it turned to shock when Bofur continued:  
  
"Though if you do fancy someone, it’s best to let them know in other ways too."  
Having said this Bofur looked towards Fíli and winked. Bilbo started sputtering.  
  
"But I don't fancy him!" the Hobbit exclaimed, and then self-consciously looked around, but finding only very, very occupied and uninterested Dwarfs he turned back to Bofur who looked contemplative.  
  
"So, staring is not a Hobbit courting ritual?" the Dwarf asked and twirled his pipe.  
  
"No! I was just- I thought. Oh it doesn't matter," Bilbo said to his breakfast bowl.  
  
"Say something," Fíli hissed to his brother sitting next to him.  
  
“Like what?” Kíli whispered back. “' _I’m sorry you are delusional'_?”  
  
"You know what,” Bilbo suddenly said to Bofur. “There's something I have to do. Excuse me.”  
  
“He's coming over here!” Kíli hissed, “Why is he coming over here?”  
  
“Whatever you do, don’t-“ Fíli didn’t quite know how to end that sentence. “Just _don’t_ ,” he whispered just as Bilbo stopped in front of his brother.  
  
"I would like to apologise,” declared Bilbo.  
  
“What for,” Kíli asked, genuinely confused.  
  
"For the way I acted,” Bilbo said, shuffling his feet a little. “It was just a misunderstanding, but I shouldn't have acted like that. You- if you had- if you were…” The Hobbit puffed out a breath, clearly frustrated by the lack of polite ways to talk about imaginary feelings.  
“Well, it wouldn’t have been something you could have helped. So I hope you can forgive me for acting like you were at fault.”  
  
Bilbo stared hopefully down at Kíli, and Fíli quickly elbowed his brother who jumped into action.

“Think no more of it,” Kíli said and slapped Bilbo (not very hard) on the shoulder.  
  
"Excuse me?" came Ori’s voice across the camp. "Mister Baggins, could you tell me about what Hobbits do do for courting? I would like to have it written down because-"  
  
"Because young Ori here is such a thorough scribe," Fíli quickly filled in, not wanting Ori’s explanation to include any references to Thorin.  
  
Ori shot an annoyed look at him, and Fíli apologetically shrugged his shoulders. Better safe than sorry.  
  
“So what do you do when you court someone?” Ori asked.  
  
"I-ah we," Bilbo began, seeming a little embarrassed by being put on the spot like that.  
  
"Flowers," Gandalf called across the camp. "Hobbits pick flowers and weave them into crowns and wreaths for the object of their affection."  
  
"But green things die when you take them out of the ground," Ori said, looking a little horrified.  
  
In confusion Bilbo looked towards Gandalf who looked amused, but helpfully explained:  
  
“Dwarfs often give jewels, Bilbo. Gemstones. Or precious metals. It's something of a symbol of the bond the couple share. I'm sure you might see how a flower might not be a symbol of the same, well, endurance.”  
  
“Oh,” Bilbo went to sit down next to Ori to explain the ways of Hobbits, and Fíli took that as his cue to slip into the empty spot next to Bofur.

"Thank you," Fíli murmured. No matter what insanity happened next it would be clear that Bilbo and Kíli were not involved, nor had any desires to be so.  
  
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Bofur said innocently. “I was merely looking out for my brother’s interests. Though it seems he will have to get in line.”  
  
"Even so," Fíli said and shifted a little closer to the other Dwarf. In the background he heard Bilbo try to defend the practice of flower giving.  
  
"Yes, flowers die but that's just because they _live_. You would give perhaps ruby, yes? But beautiful as it may be it's still just a stone. Dead."  
  
“Better a stone than twigs and leaf,” Dwalin rumbled.  
  
Tuning out the Hobbit's protests ( _twigs_?!) Fíli turned his attention to Bofur again.  
  
"I'm going to tell uncle, and of course Kíli, about our courtship today,” he said in a low voice. “I hope- I mean, unless you've objections?"  
  
"I more concerned that _he_ will have them," Bofur said with a glance towards Thorin.  
  
"He won’t," Fíli said, “And even if he did I would have only one word for him. Hobbit.”  
   
They both smiled, Fíli perhaps a little too wide.  
It seemed as though Bofur really had left whatever objections he held for the two of them behind last night. And Fíli would be sure to continue to take things slow so as not give cause for regret.  
It was likely he had ruined much for himself by being too forward at the start. Jumping straight into bed was not for everyone.  
  
“Hang on, so if you don’t like the person you give them back the gift?” Bilbo sounded kinda upset. “That’s, I mean I am sorry, but that’s very rude. And what would that person even do with something they had wanted to give away?”

“So if someone you did _not_ favour would give you flowers,” Nori questioned, “You would not give them back even so?”  
  
“Only if he- if the person was very rude about it,” Bilbo said and snuck an unsneaky look at Thorin. “And it would be considered very strange to take flowers intended for someone else and then give them to another person.”  
  
“Only because they would have started to wilt,” Kíli teased and threw a chunk of bread to Dwalin who had gestured for it.

“But how would they know you did not favour them,” Nori pressed on, ducking the thrown bread, clearly curious.

“Well, you could actually say so. Thank them, but just politely. Or you could give them other flowers back.”  
  
“Madness!” Glóin declared and made crumps explode from his mouth and land in his beard. “That would surely encourage them."  
  
“Different flowers mean different things,” Bilbo explained. “If you like someone-“ another glance at Thorin, and Fíli despaired a little at their burglar's blatant lack of subtlety, but at least it was good news being revealed.  
Who'd have known flowers would be the key to get Bilbo to declare himself, if only to those who were looking for it.  
In other words, it was not likely Thorin had caught on yet. Fíli sighed.  
  
“If you like someone you wouldn’t for example give them bellflowers because they mean disappointment," Bilbo said and gestured with his own piece of bread.

Nori’s brow was furrowed and he thoughtfully pulled at one of his braids.  
“Seems very complicated. What if you accidentally just give them something that means ‘I despise you’.”  
  
Bilbo chuckled.  
“As I said we do talk to each other as well. And there’s also lots other things someone can do to do convey interest.” This time the look towards Thorin was followed by a little flush across Bilbo’s cheek and Fíli gently bumped Bofur to draw his attention.  
  
“I do hope Uncle is watching,” he whispered.  
  
“And taking notes,” Bofur whispered back. “That flower things seems awfully complex.”

“But that’s neither here nor there,” Bilbo said and cleared his throat. “Your stones don’t have meanings then I take it?”  
  
“Not really," Nori shrugged. "Valuable or rare stones and metals are appreciated, especially if you found them yourself, but other than that…”  
  
Fíli was starting to ponder if Nori’s interest in courtship could be a sign that he was interested in someone. Perhaps Kíli? Perhaps he was the one Kíli was interested in? If so it was a good sign, maybe? Or was the whole thing horribly far-fetched, because surely Nori wouldn't try to win Kíli with Hobbit ways anyway, so it all probably meant nothing.  
  
At the moment his brother sat by himself, smiling as Bilbo explained the concept of putting plants in pots and having them inside during winter. At the moment he certainly didn’t look to be suffering from unrequited love, and Fíli had not yet seen him cast longing looks at anyone. But he had to be hurting.  
  
Fíli sighed a little and shuffled just the smallest bit closer still to Bofur. He _had_ to help his brother, it was his duty and responsibility. And he really never had been able to stomach when Kíli cried, so it was best if it didn’t came to that.  
  
After breakfast Fíli asked both Kíli and Thorin for a moment of their time before they had to set out for the day.

“Fíli?” Thorin prompted when they had gone a little bit away from the rest of the company.  
  
“I’m courting Bofur,” Fíli stated. “I’ve just started. Kind of,” he added, considering he’d been trying for several days without much to show for it until the other night.  
“I just wanted you both to know.”  
  
As he’d made his revelation Fíli made sure to keep most of his attention on his brother. If it was Bofur who was the object of Kíli’s affection. Well. He had absolutely no idea what he’d do about it to be honest. But thankfuly it did not come to that. Kíli merely looked surprised.  
  
“You never said,” he began, but at Fíli’s meaningfully raised eyebrow, _as if his brother was one to talk_ , he fell silent and smiled, a bit ruefully.  
  
Thorin, well, Fíli’s uncle was a bit hard to read at the best of times. Literally. When he was displeased it was much easier to tell than when he was happy. So the lack of outrage was a good sign. Not that Fíli had been nervous, but still.  
  
“Are both your intentions serious?” Thorin asked and folded his arms across the chest.  
  
“It is early, but think they will be,” Fíli said honestly.  
  
“Good,” Thorin said and clasped Fíli on the shoulder. “Then I won’t be short a member of this company.”  
  
“Uncle!” Fíli protested as Thorin left. “I’m not a child. I can take care of myself.”  
   
Kíli ignored his brother’s grumbling and pulled him into a quick embrace.  
  
“He seems nice enough,” Kíli said when they parted. “But I’m with Uncle, if he hurts you I will at least shave off his beard.  
  
“A fate worse than death,” Fíli agreed and teasingly poked his fingers into the mere scruff sitting on Kíli’s chin.  
  
“Keep your hands to yourself,” Kíli warned. “Or you will wake up hairless.”  
  
Fíli merely grinned at his brother, as Kíli always got annoyed when Fíli acted superior. Worked this time as well as Kíli huffed and stormed off.  
  
Whistling to himself Fíli went back to camp. It seemed two of his goals for the day were taken care of. And while he spent time with Bofur he could also try and work on a new plan to figure out who Kíli loved. One not involving Hobbits this time. Because let it be said that Fíli learnt from his mistakes. _Especially_ ones involving brooding uncles and sulking brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me show you my head-canon:  
> In canon, when Thorin gives the Mithril shirt with the pearl belt to Bilbo that’s in line with the *accidental* cloak thing from before. Like a sneaky way of marking Bilbo without having to tell him, but also half-way towards a proposal.  
> I think in this story they will sort themselves out before they’re in Erebor though. Maybe ;)


	7. Revelations And Progression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli's day continues to be awesome, Bofur has a shady past, and Kíli needs to grow up already (what else is knew).  
> Oh, and Bilbo/Thorin fans, they finally take a step in the right direction in this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love the comments. Makes me write that much faster ;)

As they rode out  that morning Fíli reminded Bofur of his promise to tell more about Erebor.  
  
Bombur rode with them, which Fíli didn’t mind as the rotund Dwarf had turned out to be very pleasant company.  
Before, Fíli hadn’t spent that much time with the large Dwarf, but now that he did Bombur reminded Fíli a fair bit of Kíli. Both had a wicked sense of humour, both had perfected an innocent expression, and as he soon know, both thrived on driving their big brother insane.  
  
\- - -  
  
“That’s not what happened,” Bofur protested as Bombur snickered, riding just ahead of them. He turned to Fíli who was riding at his left and looked at him earnestly. “It’s not. I might have drunk a little too much but I wouldn’t go into the wrong room just for that.” Bofur tapped his hat, probably aiming for the head beneath it.  
“Mine-sense,” he explained. “You can’t be a good miner if you get lost easily. And I wasn’t naked,” he added and glared at the still snickering Bombur.  
  
“So why _did_ you wake up naked next to Bifur?” Fíli asked, aiming for neutral, but he could feel a smirk twitching beneath his moustache.  
  
“I wasn’t naked!” Bofur exclaimed.  
  
“He had his hat on,” Bombur whispered, loudly, and then ducked when Bofur threw his flute at him.  
  
\- - -  
  
Fíli was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. Tears streamed down his face and he could only hope his pony was following along and not walking off of any cliffs.  
  
“It’s not _that_ funny, Fíli,” Bofur said, but he said it fondly and Fíli could imagine that warm look in his eyes again. Would be nice to see it too, but at the moment he was a little busy dying.  
  
“Is he turning blue yet?” Kíli asked having apparently joined them. “Sometimes he gets like that and the only thing that works is to dunk him in water for a bit.”  
  
“Is not,” Fíli managed to choke out. Then the image of Bofur dressed in one of those frilly dresses Elves favoured entered his mind again and he once again succumbed to laughter.  
  
\- - -  
  
“Bombur, you have to leave me a little dignity,” Bofur pleaded with his brother.  
  
“Surely you have some embarrassing tales of _him_ to tell,” Fíli asked, finally composed once again. “That’s my first line of defence against Kíli.”  
  
Bombur’s back practically radiated innocence and Bofur rolled his eyes.  
  
“The trouble with that one,” he explained and pointed towards Bombur. “Is that he has completely no shame. None.”  
  
“’Tis true,” Bombur nodded, then turned to look back at them. “I think Bofur got mine as well. That reminds me, I should tell you of-“  
  
Bofur groaned.  
  
Fíli paced his pony so he rode just next to Bofur, their mounts almost bumping each other, and reached out his hand to stroke across the other Dwarf’s shoulder.  
  
“I’ll still respect you in the evening?” he teased, voice soft so it wouldn’t carry. Ahead of them Bombur had started on another interesting tale involving visiting nobles and something about a dust explosion, but Fíli was more intrigued by the way Bofur’s whole face crinkled as he smiled.  
And his eyes really were the comeliest green colour.  
  
Before he really knew what he was doing Fíli had stretched across the divide to softly press his lips to Bofur’s, bumping his forehead softly against Bofur’s hat, Bofur’s whiskers tickling against his own moustache. For a second it was perfect.  
  
Then Fíli almost fell of his pony. Which: not exactly how he’d imagined their first kiss to go.  
  
“Was that okay,” he asked rather anxiously as he scrambled to regain his balance, immediately wanting to smack himself after asking. Good job not sounding as a child, he congratulated himself ironically.  
  
“Aye,” Bofur smiled warmly enough for Fíli to feel it in his bones. “Except for you almost getting trampled.”  
  
“There should always be room for improvement,” Fíli said and smiled.  
He rather wanted to say something about practice making perfect, but he didn’t want to be too pushy. Not making the same mistake twice.  
  
Bombur had managed to mysteriously disappear, but Fíli could hear him chatting to Kíli further back. Then their brothers both laughed.  
  
“I fear our kin is conspiring,” Fíli confessed to Bofur who glanced back, then smiled at Fíli again.  
  
“Perhaps we can sway Bifur to our side,” Bofur mused. “Bombur tends to listen to him, at least on occasion - when he can understand what our cousin is saying.”  
  
Another laugh came from behind them, this one sounding even more ominously.  
  
“Or we can just run away,” Fíli suggested. “Meet the others in Erebor. I’m sure we’d beat them there. If the dragon is there I’m _sure_ the beast wouldn’t notice us if we were very quiet. You could show me around?”  
  
“Until then perhaps I might tell you a few more stories, now that Bombur is not around to torment me,” Bofur said, but with a smile so Fíli knew the older Dwarf was not offended by what had transpired.  
  
They had now left the Shire behind so after mid-day Thorin decided to send Fíli and Kíli ahead to scout again, in case of troubles. This gave Fíli a chance to plan, so plan he did as his eyes scanned the landscape.  
  
Or, he tried to, but the only thoughts that wanted to stay in his mind all seemed to concern Bofur. It was very nice and all, but inconvenient when one tried to sort out Kíli’s love life.  
  
He’d be thinking very deep thoughts, for example considering the list he’d made of their company – now only seven names as Bombur had been taken off it due to his lack of beard, and Bofur _clearly_ did not belong on it either – but inevitably his thought would jump to Bofur and his smiles and lips.  
  
Then an hour or so past noon it started raining. Not a mere trickle, instead it felt uncomfortably like standing beneath a waterfall. The rain washed away with little was left of his concentration and when they made camp that night Fíli was no closer to having a plan to help his brother.  
  
But that evening still ended on a positive note, several notes in fact.  
  
They were all wet and miserable, their burglar most of all as he lacked both cloak and hat to shield himself form the downpour. Bilbo sat shivering next to the fire and he looked so wretched that Fíli got up to give the Hobbit his cloak – it was wet, but not the whole way through (and this way he would also have an excuse to sit quite close to Bofur). But before he could take more than a step he saw his uncle come up behind Bilbo and – Fíli felt like rubbing his eyes – gently settle his own coat around the Hobbit’s shoulders.  
  
Bilbo looked up in surprise, which turned to shock when he saw just who had given him the coat. Then, to Fíli’s amusement, the Hobbit blushed so hard it almost turned his whole face hot enough to cause steam to rise from it.

“I can’t take your coat,” Bilbo protested and tried to shrug it off so he could return it.  
  
Thorin’s hands on the Hobbit’s shoulders quickly put a stop to that.  
  
“You did not take it, I gave it to you,” Thorin said, clearly intending the matter to be finished. But he hadn’t counted with Hobbit stubbornness and Bilbo squirmed beneath his hands.  
  
“But now you will be cold,” the Hobbit objected. “And don’t say that you’ll be fine, I can already see you shivering.”  
  
Absorbed by what was happening Fíli was distantly aware of Kíli settling in beside him.  
  
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Kíli asked in a disbelieving tone of voice.  
  
“I think so,” Fíli replied, feeling a little faint. “They seem to be, _talking_ , don’t they.”  
  
“Arguing,” Kíli corrected as Thorin released Bilbo’s shoulders in order to fold his arms across his chest (better for glaring). “Still, it’s something.”  
  
The log the brothers were sitting on groaned when Bombur joined them.  
  
“It’s like they’re married already,” the ginger Dwarf mused and bit into a sausage. Bilbo had now crossed his own arms and scowled defiantly up at Thorin. “My parents were the same way, bless them.”  
  
Fíli and Kíli both hissed at him to be quiet.  
  
“Tell you what,” Bilbo said and lifted one side of the coat. “This is plenty big, we can share.”  
  
“Did he just-?” Kíli asked, eyes very big. Thorin looked a bit shocked as well. (To those who did not know him very well he just look grumpy.)  
  
“I don’t want to impose-“ he began.  
  
“It’s your bloody coat,” Bilbo snapped and made the fur flap a little as he waved it for emphasis.  
  
Slowly Thorin sat down beside Bilbo and this caused Bilbo’s eyes to go even wider than Kíli’s.  
Apparently the Hobbit hadn’t gotten this far in his plan. But having Thorin pressed up against his side would be necessary were they to share the coat. Deliberately, but with a fresh flush across his cheeks, Bilbo made sure they both were covered.  
  
“There,” he said when he was done, just a bit shakily. Thorin turned his head to look at the Hobbit, their faces very close together.  
  
Kíli covered his eyes.  
“I don’t need to see this part,” he said.  
  
“Thank you,” Thorin said gravely, subtly shifting a little more of the fabric onto Bilbo when the Hobbit shivered.  
  
“No- I, I mean, thank _you_?,” Bilbo said uncertainly, having apparently run out of whatever powered him before. Thorin merely nodded.  
  
Fíli felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Bofur standing behind him.  
  
“Is this tonight’s entertainment then?” the older Dwarf asked him with a smile, squeezing in to sit beside Fíli when Kíli (eyes still covered) shushed him.  
  
“You know,” Bofur whispered into Fíli’s ear. “If those two actually manage to get their act together I suddenly feel a lot more hopeful regarding our quest.”  
  
Fíli turned to look at him in confusion.  
  
“Proof miracles can happen,” Bofur explained with grin. “We mightn’t need one, but I’m guessing it wouldn’t hurt to have some sort of higher power on your side, going against a dragon.”  
  
Fíli laughed quietly and then leaned into Bofur’s side, pleased when Bofur’s arm immediately came around his shoulders, hand settling in to play with one of Fíli’s braids.  
  
By the fire Bilbo and Thorin sat in silence.  
  
“I don’t hear anything,” Kíli hissed. “Are they kissing or not?”  
  
“Not,” Bombur replied, and Kíli peeked out between his fingers.  
  
“I’m not sure if I’m relived or disappointed,” he complained.  
  
“Let me know when you figure it out,” Fíli said, completely understanding his brother’s feelings on the matter.  
  
“Anyone want a piece of cheese?” Bombur offered.


	8. Birds Of A Feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli turns out to be the little spoon, Bilbo is still sorting out cultural differences, and Gandalf is probably wondering just where this quest went wrong (or maybe right?).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks so much for the comments, and for the Kudos. I'm crap at answering them, but I love all the comments so much!

That same night Fíli casually put his bedroll down next to Bofur’s, mindful not to put it _too_ close in case that would cause offence.  
  
When Bofur noticed what Fíli had done he just rolled his eyes and moved his bedroll flush against Fíli’s.  
  
“Don’t be silly,” he scolded, but with a smile. “Like anything untoward is going to happen when we’re both sleeping within ten feet from our brothers.” Bofur then looked hopefully at Fíli. “I wouldn’t mind holding you though,” he added, almost making it sound like a question.  
  
Fíli smiled - beamed was probably a better description, and helpfully moved his bedroll even closer to Bofur’s (practically on top) before throwing himself down on it. He didn’t care if it made him look foolish, he just didn’t want there to be any doubt about his feelings regarding the matter.  
  
Bofur shook his head, amused, but he didn’t protest when Fíli held up a beckoning hand to him.  
  
As it was their first try it took a bit of shuffling and shifting before they were comfortable. But after Fíli’s hair had ended up in Bofur’s mouth a few times and the flaps on Bofur’s hat almost poked out the blond Dwarf’s eye, they ended upon their sides with Bofur behind Fíli, Fíli's head resting on Bofur's arm, and both their left hands tangled together on Fíli's stomach.   
  
Fíli just _barely_ stopped himself from sighing happily (he’d already filled his silly quote for that day so behaviours more fit for a young girl than a grown Dwarf should be avoided until further notice).  
  
“Bilbo came to talk to me just earlier,” Bofur whispered and Fíli mumbled something he hoped sounded interested. It had been a long day, a long, mostly wet day, and Bofur was very warm against his back. Who cared what the Hobbit wanted.  
“It was about Thorin, in a way,” Bofur clarified, and that made Fíli take more notice. A _little_ more at least. Bofur seemed to give out more heat than their fire and Fíli could feel  himself starting to fall asleep.  
  
“What did he say?”  
  
“He actually asked about us, if two males together were normal amongst Dwarfs,” Bofur huffed out a low laugh and the burst of warm breath on his partially bared neck made Fíli shiver. “Though my guess would be that he asked not merely out of curiosity for 'nother culture.”  
  
“Does that mean it’s not common between Hobbits?” Fíli asked.  
  
“Seemed like it was common enough, but at the same time not _proper_.” From the way Bofur’s hat was rubbing against the back of his head it seemed to Fíli like the other Dwarf was shaking his head.  
  
"Hobbits seem awfully concerned with what's proper or not," Fíli murmured.  
  
Perhaps he’d better talk to Bilbo. Just in case there was just a little _too_ much proper in the Hobbit. But that could wait until the morning. Fíli tightened his hand around Bofur’s. Everything could wait until the morning.  
  
-  
  
The next dawn found Fíli with his face buried in Bofur’s neck. It was an awfully nice place to be, but hardly somewhere he could stay forever if they were to continue with this quest to slay dragons and reclaim homes. Oh, and talk to Hobbits.  
  
Carefully untangling himself from Bofur, Fíli got up and stretched. It was funny how his uncle had made sure to mention the dangers of Orcs and Dragons and all sorts of murderous things which could be encountered on the road, but he had forgotten to mention the damage that could be done to your spine after sleeping on the ground.  
  
Perhaps Thorin did not even consider it being unusual, even after living so long in Ered Luin.  
After all, he had survived during far worse circumstances.   
  
Fíli would gladly call himself spoilt though, if it meant that the following night could be spent in an actual bed. _Mmm, Bofur, bed._ But as that wasn’t in the cards there was no other thing to do but to shut up and bear it. Yawning he looked around camp.  
  
He wasn’t the only one who was awake. It was Kíli’s turn to prepare breakfast and as it was ready he had obviously been awake for some time. At the moment Kíli wasn’t within sight but Fíli didn’t worry – much. Dwalin and Balin were up as well, probably they’d had the last watch, so they’d know where his brother had run off to and would have made sure it wasn’t too far away. Gandalf _never_ seemed to sleep, so it was no surprise that he was awake as well.  
  
Bombur and Bilbo were both just getting up as well, likely being drawn by the smell of porridge.  
  
The Hobbit was sleepily untangling himself from Thorin’s coat, looking a little bit surprised to find himself doing so.  
  
Fíli knew his uncle would have insisted on the Hobbit wearing the coat to bed last night, but that was an argument that never happened. Bilbo had simply fallen asleep before either one of them could start to insist on the other one having it. Their burglar had looked awfully comfortable leaning against Thorin, even more comfortable when he had slowly but surely started slipping down until he almost lay in Thorin’s lap.  
  
Fìli smiled at the memory. His uncle had seemed pleased with the trust Bilbo had shown him by being able to completely relax beside him, but he had also looked rather awkward regarding what one should do when one suddenly was cuddled by a sleeping Hobbit.   
  
In the end Thorin had likely spent too long just sitting next to the Hobbit, looking awkward. It wasn’t until he himself had started dozing off that he’d slipped out of the coat and left Bilbo bundled up in it by to the fire.  
  
Watching Bilbo wake up with the coat still wrapped around him was refreshingly new after so many nights seeing the Hobbit use it as covers. Probably a relief for Thorin as well to not having to go untangle it. Perhaps that's why he was still sleeping.  
  
Deciding to pre-empt any “how dare that Dwarf make sure I didn’t freeze”-rants coming from the Hobbit Fíli decided that he might as well have that talk with Bilbo right away.  
  
Though upon closer inspection Bilbo still just looked confused, perhaps a little wistful and… was he actually _petting_ the coat? He might try that when Thorin was actually inside it, it would probably yield better results… and that’s quite enough of that thought.  
  
Fíli shook his head. If he wasn’t such a nice nephew he would make sure those two didn’t get their act together until they were in Erebor. Erebor seemed like a very convenient  place with lots of rooms - and lots of doors that could be firmly shut and locked. Then Fíli could get Bofur to show him a whole ‘nother part of the mountain far, _far_ away out of both sight and hearing.   
But Fíli was a nice nephew, so he'd best get on with it.  
  
“Bilbo!” Fíli called, still a bit away, not wanting to sneak up on the Hobbit _._  
  
Bilbo looked up, looking a little alarmed, and Fíli made sure to smile to calm him down.  
It didn’t quite work (throw a fellow’s dinnerware around just _once_ and forever more be suspected of mischief….) but it at least seemed to make him stop petting the damned fur.

Fíli settled on the ground next to the Hobbit, meaning for this to a private conversation, this time one not ending in shouting. Well, at least he hoped it wouldn't.  
  
"Bofur tells me you asked him about us last night," Fíli said softly.  
  
"I meant no offence," Bilbo apologized, looking a little unsure. Fíli held up a hand.  
  
"And none was taken,  I just wanted to be sure you understood there is nothing wrong with it."  
  
He hadn’t mean to sound so defensive, but it would hurt his uncle if Bilbo decided to ignore both their feelings because of some stupid notion of propriety. And for his own sake, Fíli would prefer not to travel in the company of someone who’d look down on his relationship with Bofur.  
  
But he hadn’t needed to worry.  
  
"Of course there isn't," Bilbo said and looked at Fíli as if he was an especially thick child.  
  
"You said it wasn't proper," Fíli said and crossed his arms. He did not like to be treated as, well, as an especially thick child.  
  
"Neither is being on an adventure,” Bilbo said, sounding a bit exasperated. “ I can't imagine what my neighbours are thinking about this. My reputation is surely ruined."  
Then he looked thoughtful. “But at least that’ll stop Lobelia from trying to come up with reasons to visit.”  
  
Ignoring the Lobelia comment (who?), and getting a little bit away from the actual subject, Fíli _had_ to ask the question now on his mind. Because surely…?  
  
"Your neighbours would _not_ consider you brave and honourable to come with us on a dangerous quest that is not even your own?"  
  
"Well, no.” Bilbo looked uncomfortable. “And again, no offence is intended but Hobbits and adventures usually not mix. Especially not ones where you can end up incinerated by a dragon. It's like I told Gandalf, adventures will only make you late for dinner, not respectable at all. Sorry," he added apologetically.  
  
"But you came anyway."  
  
Bilbo nodded, now looking quite determined.  
  
Fíli felt a bit stunned that anyone would consider Bilbo unrespectable for merely aiding them on their quest but at the same time he felt a sudden kinship with their burglar.  
He’d liked Bilbo well enough before, though not at all understanding what his uncle saw in him, and Fíli would have called him – well if not a friend, then certainly a comrade. But perhaps that friendship was closer than he previous thought.  
  
All Dwarfs hailing from Erebor, regardless of if they’d been born there or not, understood what it meant to be an outsider, not belonging anywhere, and that was one of the things that held them together.  
  
"Whatever your reasons we are grateful," Fíli said and gripped Bilbo’s shoulder with his hand. “All of us are.”  
  
“Indeed,” Kíli confirmed, having come to stand behind them at some point in the conversation. “But speaking of, do you want me to give the coat back to Thorin?”  
  
“No, I should- I want to thank him,” Bilbo said looking up at Kíli - with a glance to where Thorin still slept even though the rest of the company were now on their feet. Fíli figured that his uncle must have been losing an awful lot of sleep earlier while sneaking around with the coat.  
  
Both Kíli and Fíli gave Bilbo a slightly dubious look.  
  
“I’m _not_ going to be ungrateful,” Bilbo said, looking a bit affronted. “No need for that look. Not that he needed to leave the coat with me, after all I’ve done just fine without it so far-“  
Here the brothers bravely resisted from rolling their eyes (Kíli) and just telling the truth (Fíli).  
  
“But I appreciate it, it was kind of him, and that’s what I’ll tell him.”  
  
Fíli really wished that he could tell _Bilbo_ just how his uncle felt about him. He really, _really_ did.  
But he couldn’t. It could ruin everything.  
  
All it would take was for Bilbo to say something like: ‘ _Fíli told me you_ _liked/loved/was completely stupid about_ (even hypothetically it was hard to pick what words to use to best describe Thorin’s feelings) _me_ ’.  
  
Thorin would not hear the actual words (Fíli knew all too well how his uncle’s brain worked) and instead he would hear something like: ‘ _Fíli said you wanted me so I’m merely going along with it because I’m obliged/scared/other stupid untrue reasons’.  
  
_ So he was left with nothing else to do than smile and tell Bilbo that he might as well wake Thorin now, if it wasn’t too much trouble.  
  
“Bombur might steal his part of the breakfast unless he’s around to defend it,” Kíli added, and Bilbo nodded and bundled up the coat to take to Thorin.  
  
The brothers watched him go, and sighed simultaneously. Kíli settled on the ground next to Fíli.  
  
“You sure we can’t tell him?” Kíli whined as they watched Bilbo gently nudge Thorin awake. Thorin looked surprised but pleased enough with Bilbo hovering over him. And that made Bilbo looked surprised but pleased in return.  
  
“Unfortunately, I am,” Fíli said and shook his head. “If Uncle thinks we’ve coaxed him in any way-“  
  
“But we haven’t!”  
  
“Still, we ought not to say anything.”  
  
“Can we tell Uncle?” Kíli asked hopefully. “It is quite obvious now that our burglar fancies _him_ , and not merely the idea of a king and hero. You don't argue like he did with a hero.”  
  
“You think that’d go any better?" Fíli was doubtful. "Uncle’s not going to take the first step if he is not first _completely_ sure his feelings are returned, and that for the same reasons as why he wouldn’t take kindly to any meddling," he shrugged. “If he doesn’t see the truth already I’m not sure anything we say will convince him.”  
  
They both observed Bilbo and Thorin for another minute. Bilbo really didn’t appear to be yelling, and Thorin seemed to have avoided any unintentional insults so far, so really, it was going extremely well.  
  
”What you said to Bilbo earlier, when you thanked him,” Kíli’s tone was now serious. ”That was well said. You'll make a fine king one day, brother.”  
  
“Well...” Fíli never quite knew how to deal with Kíli when he had one of his serious moments. (Could be because he had so little practice at it.) ”It certainly looks like uncle won't be having any children of his own, so I’m guessing he’s very thankful to Mother for providing us.”  
  
Then an idea came unbidden into his head.  
  
“Unless…”  
  
“You don't think..?” Kíli had apparently got the same idea because he sounded quite horrified.  
   
“Gandalf!” the brothers yelled.

-  
   
Gandalf was very amused at the question of whether male Hobbits could bear children, or at least that’s what Fíli and Kíli had to assume, because the wizard laughed for quite a long time after the brothers had asked him. Unfortunately he didn't actually answer the question, couldn't really, since he just started laughing again when it was brought back up.  
  
At least it seemed more like a, ‘You are quite absurd’-laugh than ‘Everyone surely knows this’-laugh.   
Fíli hoped so anyway. He would _never_ understand Wizards.  
  
Just take the way the smoke rising from Gandalf’s pipe looked like for the rest of that day; like big birds with long legs. (Bilbo had called them ‘storks’ when he’d noticed one flying around his head)  
  
What did birds have anything to do with anything? Wizards…   
But at least it wasn't tiny pregnant Bilbos. Nevertheless, from now Thorin could figure out for himself if Hobbits had any bits and pieces that Dwarfs didn't.  
  
Fíli was a nice nephew, but he wasn't _that_ nice.


	9. The Plotting Continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are good plans, bad plans, and sneaky plans. And the author is already telling herself to not make any "dropped the soap"-jokes in the next part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this wasn't actually what I meant to write when I started this bit, but yeah. Sorry it's kinda short. The non-existing plot of this really doesn't want to listen to me sometimes, but the good news is that next bit ought to be both longer and with more exciting things going on.

Fíli really wanted to braid Bofur’s hair. And no, that wasn’t a euphemism. Though he did want to do other things to Bofur too, but that’d come, erm, _happen_ , with time. Time and privacy. And preferably a bed.

Right now what he wanted was to get rid of the hat, run in finger through Bofur’s messy hair and messy braids until it was all sleek and nice and then braid it properly. Unfortunately he could not do such a thing because yet again he was out scouting. In the rain. Which was still very wet.

Fíli sighed and his pony seemed to sigh with him. 

And there was not much to scout either. Not even any cows. He thought he might have seen a deer before, but it had quickly dashed away. If there were any more perhaps Kíli could manage to get supper for them. The wet grass made for easy tracking and they would need to start hunting pretty soon anyway as their more perishable provisions had started to run out. Maybe they ought to start putting traps down when they made camp as well. Nori was pretty good at that if Fíli remembered correctly.  
  
 _Nori_ , one of the remaining five on Fíli’s list of who his brother could be interested in. He’d removed Oín and Dori based on the fact that his brother didn’t really interact much with them. He was polite, but not overly friendly as he didn’t seem to have much in common with the two.

At first Fíli had debated with himself if avoidance should be seen as a sign of hidden-interested or just a sign that Kíli found more pleasure in spending time with the others. Finally he’d gone with the second explanation. Kíli wasn’t a coward; if he thought his love was hopeless he would still not avoid the Dwarf in question. Well, perhaps at first, but Fíli couldn’t remember if he’d avoided anyone at the at the start of their journey. Anyway, remaining on the list was now Balin, Dwalin, Nori, Ori and Bifur.  
  
Maybe Balin ought to be taken off it as well as well, since Kíli (and Fíli too for that matter) had always treated Balin as something of an extra uncle. But who knew.  
Love was very strange after all, and there was no rhyme or reason to be found in it. Just as it could happen suddenly it could come creeping up on you. And Balin did have a mighty fine beard.

By Mahal, this was getting him nowhere. Soon he’d be putting everyone back on it and adding Gandalf to boot.  
  
If his brother had been acting strangely with any of the five then Fíli had not seen it. And having finally managed to talk Bilbo out of helping he did not dare to ask the Hobbit for any insights.  
Perhaps he could go right to the source and discretely inquire with the Dwarfs in question if they’d noticed anything weird in his brother’s behaviour lately...  
After all Fíli needn’t tell them why he was asking, it was just normal brotherly concern.

Yes, that would be a good plan, one he would put in motion as soon as possible. Unfortunately it was only just past noon (or possibly just before, it was hard to tell with the thick clouds covering the sky) so it’d be hours yet before Fíli could act. How wonderful. Just him, the road, the rain, and a once again brooding brother who rode beside him in a little cloud of gloom.  
It was strange how Kíli had always been able to quickly go from laughter to frowns. Though this time it was not because he had lost a dagger or a pretty stone, it was due to a lost heart.

Again Fìli sighed, feeling himself start to sink into brooding as well. It must be a family trait; their uncle being the champion brooder of all Dwarfs. Though he had been less unhappy lately, at least a little. Not smiling _more_ (Fíli still hoped they’d be able to get him to smile at least twice a year whenever this vexing situation with Bilbo was sorted out) but he had been frowning less. Having a clear purpose again clearly suited him. Also, if the Hobbit situation continued like this then maybe Fíli wouldn’t have to resort to luring them into the next shed they passed and blocking the door after them. After all they had actually managed to talk to each other that morning without anyone storming away in a rage (Thorin) or in a snit (Bilbo, and maybe Thorin too). But only maybe.

As if Kíli had known his thoughts he pushed back his hood slightly to met Fíli’s eyes.

”What if Uncle thought someone else was interested in Bilbo?” his brother asked. "Perhaps that'd get him to act."

”Because that worked so well the last time?” Fíli couldn’t believe his brother wanted to relive those days again.

”But if it's not one of _us_ then he might just get jealous enough to do something about it.”

Fíli slowly let out a breath and shook his head, causing drops of water to cascade around him.  
”Much too risky. Imagine just if Bilbo does not look properly uninterested. Our burglar is a friendly one. Do you really want to risk hurting Uncle like that? Or what if the opposite occured and he would appear even more put off then when he thought you were interested-”

”Hey!” Kíli protested.

”It’s true and you know it,” Fíli teased, though his eyes were still serious. ”Imagine anyone, even one of us, pursuing a clearly resisting Bilbo, and imagine how Uncle would feel about that.”

”Thorin's never looked kindly on those who’d press their affection on those who do not wish it, no,” Kíli grudingly agreed. ”Remember that lumberman who took such a fancy to your blond tresses, brother?”

”I expect that he is still walking funny,” Fíli snorted.

Fíli had been only thirty, no beard to speak of, and not even close to being competent in a fight. He had been waiting for Thorin outside a store in one of the towns of Men that were close to Ered Luin. The Man had been almost twice his size, smelling of too much ale and too little time spent washing himself, and he had been very interested in Fíli’s ‘golden locks’ and ‘pouty lips’.  
  
Despite their difference in size Fíli had been revolted enough to start thinking about how much trouble he’d get in with the local authorities if the hulking idiot ended up with a knife stuck in his hand, but before he could find out, Thorin had shown up.  
  
Only seconds later the Man had met the ground (this after his groin had met with Thorin’s steel-toed boots) and the very next day Dwalin came around to collect both Fíli and Kíli to start properly training them in hand-to-hand combat.

“Maybe you’re right,” Kíli conceded. “It wouldn’t be a very good idea.”

“Better to find a room to look them in,” Fíli said with a nod.

“That might actually work,” laughed Kíli, gloom lifting slightly.

“Just when I thought you two had grown up,” Dwalin rumbled from behind them.

The brothers both halted their ponies and turned them around to see Dwalin on his own pony.

Fíli was just about to protest; what was it with all these people and not seeing that he was a fully grown Dwarf, but Kíli got there first.

“We are not _children_ ,” he spat. And Dwalin and Fíli both were a bit taken aback with the vehemence he had said it. Dwalin found his words first.

“Could have fooled me,” he drawled. “You didn’t hear my pony; you didn’t hear me. What if it hadn’t been me, eh? What if it had been someone, or something, delighted in finding you both distracted and unaware?”

Fíli shot his brother a look to keep him quiet. Kíli actually managed to hold his tongue, but his eyes were flashing and there was colour high on his cheeks.

“It won’t happen again,” Fíli apologized and pushed a wet strand of his hair away from his face. “You taught us better.”

“I did,” Dwalin agreed. “Now come along, the Halfling demanded a bath.”

That seemed to throw Kíli almost completely out of his mood. With eyes now rounded by surprise and not narrowed by irritation the dark haired Dwarf looked at his brother, looked back at Dwalin, and said:  
“He demanded a _bath_?”  
  
Fíli could very much get behind the sentiment in that question. 

“Well, not demand it as much as complained so much about being wet - but still dirty, that Gandalf forced himself to remember that there are some hot springs around here somewhere,” Dwalin explained. “And there you have it.”

“And Thorin was fine with us stopping for Bilbo to have a bath?” Fíli asked sceptically. Just how addled had his uncle’s brain gotten after he fell in love with Bilbo?

“Dori, Nori and Balin also voted for a bath,” Dwalin grunted. “I think the rest of them agreed simply to make the Halfling shut up.”

“Worse than the handkerchief rants?” Fíli asked. Despite Bofur giving him one, Bilbo had grumbled about his handkerchief for many miles when they first started their journey.

“Much,” Dwalin snorted. “Now come along, we need to find these springs before long or he’ll have second thoughts.”

“And that is a bad thing?” Kíli wondered with a confused look on his face.

“Despite your _fine_ plan of finding a room with a lock in the middle of the wilderness, I myself think it would be easier to present Thorin with a naked Halfling and see how long it’d take for his brain to melt enough for him to do something about it.”  
  
“Mister Dwalin,” Fíli grinned. “Your cunning will never cease to impress me.”

“Could we manage to take his clothes?” Kíli mused, a grin now stretching across his face and the previous bad mood apparently forgotten completely. "Both their clothes?"

“The real challenge will be to stop Uncle from just going off into the forest until Bilbo is decent again,” Fíli protested.

“Don’t you worry about that, lad,” Dwalin said with a slightly evil grin. “I’ve already got a plan.”


	10. You Can Lead A Dwarf To Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And if you're Dwalin and Fíli you can certainly make sure a Hobbit comes along for the trip as well.

Fíli was really regretting not joining up with Dwalin right from the start of the Thorin and Bilbo campaign. Apparently wartime strategies worked just as well to get two people together as they did to ensure survival when Orcs were attacking.

“The first trick to win a fight,” Dwalin explained as they headed back to the others. “Is to not have to fight at all.” He nodded towards Kíli’s bow. “That’ll let you put an arrow into the head of an Orc before it can come close enough to even look funny at you.”  
  
“I feel the need to point out that we do not wish to kill either Bilbo or Thorin,” Fíli said and pushed back the hood of his cloak as it had actually stopped raining.  
  
“Works the same for everything else,” Dwalin rumbled. “If you don’t want to chase down Thorin when the Halfling starts to strip, don’t let him get the chance to go anywhere in the first place.”  
  
“Right,” Kíli said sourly. Apparently he was still in a foul mood. “Brother, you hold his right leg, I’ll take the left.”  
  
“Kíli,” Fíli said quite sweetly. “Shut up.” He turned to Dwalin. “So how do we do that?”

“First step is to get rid of any excuses he’ll make before he can make them. The Wizard will offer to stand guard while the rest of us get a soak, and you two will be sure to tell him that the road up ahead is safe as can be.”  
  
“You’ve managed to recruit Gandalf to our side?” Fíli said in awe, and perhaps a little fear. Dwalin merely smirked.  
  
“Second step is to make sure he actually needs a bath,” Dwalin continued. “I think the blasted rain has pretty much taken care of that for me, but if not I’d guess a little accident could happen with some mud.”

Kíli mumbled something about who was the childish one now, throwing mud, but Dwalin and Fíli both ignored him.  
  
“Third step actually concerns the Halfling more than Thorin,” Dwalin huffed.

“You think he could change his mind about the bath?” Fíli asked. “After wanting it in the first place?”  
  
“Lad, when I left I don’t think our little burglar had actually realised he'd need to get naked to take a bath.”  
  
“Surely he’s thought of that,” Fíli protested, and Kíli looked sceptical as well.  
  
Dwalin snorted and shook his head.  
  
“Have you not seen the amount of clothes he wears? And none of it seems to be meant protection, or warmth for that matter, only to cover up. When Thorin agreed to stop our would-be thief was too surprised to think it through, but just you wait.”  
  
-  
  
Dwalin was right, on all accounts.  
  
The spring turned out to be quite easy to find once they ignored Gandalf’s directions and instead started listening for the sound of water, and the steam coming off it looked mighty inviting indeed. Not that Thorin allowed that to shift his opinion.  
  
Thorin was cold, soaking wet and had mud splashed up to his hair (upon seeing Dwalin’s stone-faced expression when he apologized to Thorin about the splash made by his _pony,_ Fíli vowed to never play cards with him ever again) but Thorin still tried to get out of bathing by talking about how someone needed to stand guard in case of troubles.  
  
(Fíli also noticed the half-glance Thorin threw Bilbo’s way at the word _trouble_.) Gandalf quickly put a stop to that excuse though, and realising he was defeated Thorin gave in, if extremely un-gracefully.  
  
Shooting a dark look at Dwalin and Gandalf both, Thorin unclasped his coat and hung it on a branch. Muttering in a way most unbecoming a king he then began to take off the rest of his armour and clothes. The company took this as their cue and started undressing as well.  
  
It was quite easy to see the exact moment when Bilbo realised that to bathe one had to get at least partially undressed. It was with very wide eyes he looked around at the Dwarfs surrounding him, Dwarfs getting more and more naked.  
  
“On second thought, Hobbits are not very good swimmers-“ he began.

“Come now, Master Burglar,” Bofur called as he pulled off his shirt. “As if we’d let you drown. Get on with it now, you haven’t got anything we’ve not seen before.”  
  
“We hope,” Fíli murmured, not having forgotten the amused look in the Wizard’s eyes.  
Then Fíli was quite distracted with the way Bofur’s skin looked. And the way the hair on Bofur’s chest gradually narrowed as it went further south, and oh, there went his trousers too, and, _hello_.  
  
“Fíli,” Bofur said and nudged him. “Why don’t you set a good example for our burglar and actually get undressed as well.”  
  
“Huh uh,” Fíli said, still distracted, but he let his gaze drag back upwards again. Compared to some of the others Bofur certainly wasn’t the Dwarf with the most muscles (Dwalin), and he didn’t have the compact body of Gloín or Bifur, or the massive amount of hair Dori had (really, he could double as a rug) but Fíli nonetheless felt the urge to wrap himself around Bofur’s body and do things to him you are really not meant to do be done in public.  
  
Realising it was best to get undressed very quickly, before the short walk to the springs would be revealing in other way than just nakedness, Fíli quickly shed his clothes and armour and dragged the laughing Bofur along to the springs.  
  
Thorin was already seated on the smooth rocks that made up a natural bench stretching around the inside of the hot spring. The water turned quite deep in the middle, but where Thorin was sitting his upper body stuck up from the water. Balin was seated next to him, looking a lot less dignified than usual with his beard half-in, half-out of the water. But the pleased expression on his face made it clear that he did not care in the slightest, and when Fili stepped into the spring he understood why.  
  
Being wet wasn’t half as bad when it was voluntarily, and warm. With a satisfied groan Fíli sank down into the water until only his head was visible, tip of his braids disappearing down into the spring.

“Collect me when you've reclaimed Erebor,” he mumbled to Bofur. Then Bombur lept into the spring, belly first.  
  
Coughing and spluttering water Fíli glared at the now floating Bombur who merely sketched a cheerful wave in the blond Dwarf’s direction.  
  
A rough hand helped smooth his hair out of his eyes and Fíli shifted his head to meet Bofur’s green gaze as the older Dwarf knelt beside him.  
  
“Not saying I agree with the method,” Bofur said softly and stroked along Fíli’s slightly dripping moustache, “But wet looks awfully good on you.” It could just be the heat from the water, but Fíli would have sworn Bofur was actually blushing a little. Grinning Fíli leant in to steal their second kiss, feeling gratified by the way Bofur’s eyes darkened as their heads drew closer, but before Fíli could claim his goal another wave of water rushed over them.  
  
“We are very happy for you, but no one wants to see that when you’re both naked,” Bombur called and splashed some more in their direction.  
  
Kíli snickered and nodded where he was threading water beside the large Dwarf.  
“I’m feeling very traumatized,” he said with a hastily put upon frown, as if trying to look the part. (It just made him look constipated.)  
  
Belatedly Fíli remembered that he ought to keep an eye on his brother, or rather, on his brother’s gaze. Because surely now that everyone was gathered like this Kíli’s eyes could not help but seek out the object of his affection? And on that subject, or rather, his uncle’s affections, where was Bilbo? Most everyone else had gotten into the water by this point.

Just then there was a splash just next to Fíli and Bofur and said Hobbit scrambled and sputtered but managed to get his feet beneath him. As Bilbo stood up he unintentionaly gave everyone and their uncle (Fíli’s in particular) a show at the same time.  
Bofur gave Fíli a confused look when he noticed how the blond Dwarf seemed to study certain parts of Bilbo with a dubious frown on his face.  
  
“I’ll tell you later,” Fíli murmured and tangled his hand together with Bofur’s. It certainly _looked_ normal enough. So clearly the rest was for his uncle to discover on his own. His very, _very_ far away from Fíli own.  
  
“Dwalin...” Balin reproached as the bald Dwarf made his own, more controlled, entry into the pool.  
  
“He was in my way,” Dwalin grunted and folded himself into the water next to his brother.  
  
Gloín and Oín got in last, Gloín complaining all the while.  
  
"This much water can't be good for the body," he grumbled. "Have you not seen what it does to stone? Imagine what it can do to flesh!"

Harrumphing Bilbo settled down, the water going almost to his shoulders. Well that wouldn’t do. There was much too little Hobbit visible to tempt Thorin into anything. But he couldn’t exactly just lift him up and show him off either. That'd be awkward in so many and varied ways.

Once again, as Fíli was at a loss on how to deal with the Hobbit, Bofur came to his rescue.  
  
“Could I borrow your soap, Bilbo?” he asked and poked himself. “I don’t quite remember being this colour.”

Bilbo looked a bit scandalized at the thought of sharing the soap, or perhaps it was just the idea that a Dwarf really wanted to wash, who knew, but that look had no more than settled on his face before it was exchanged with a one of dismay.  
  
“I didn’t manage to bring it with me into the water,” Bilbo said and glared at Dwalin. “For some reason my departure from dry land was a bit sudden.” Of course, when Bilbo directed his gaze at Dwalin he couldn’t help but see Thorin as well, seated fairly close to one another as they were.

Now _that_ was clearly a blush.  
  
“Perhaps you should get it then,” Bofur suggested.  
  
“I’m sorry?” Bilbo replied and tore his gaze away from Thorin. Just in time too, because Fíli had just started to become uncomfortable with the look in Bilbo’s eyes. Thorin _had_ to have seen that, understood that. But no, his uncle remained seated by Dwalin and Balin and did not make any efforts to ravish Bilbo against the side of the spring. Which in and of itself was a blessing, if an annoying one. He'd known his uncle was stubborn, but surely he couldn't just make up his mind that Bilbo wasn't interested and then stick to that for the rest of the Age? Only, if anyone could, that'd be Thorin...  
  
“The soap,” Bofur prompted.  
  
“Yes, I should,” Bilbo said dejectedly, obviously not looking forward to being on display. Then he perked up a little. “Unless you could do it?” he asked Bofur. “You wanted to borrow it after all.”  
  
“I’m afraid he’s busy,” Fíli said hastily and wrapped his arm around Bofur’s waist.

“Busy?” Bilbo asked.  
  
“ _Busy_ ,” Fíli explained and wrapped his other arm around Bofur as well, then he had to pinch Bofur when the older Dwarf almost started laughing.  
  
“He better not be too busy!” Bombur hollered, and some of the others hooted.

“Oh.” Bilbo glanced around the pool where everyone now seemed quite occupied with enjoying the warmth, swimming around or dunking one another in the water.  No one was looking in their direction. Except Ori, but Nori quickly slapped the back of his head to make him stop. “I’ll guess I’ll... go then.”  
  
“That’s mighty fine of you,” Bofur said and tipped his head back onto Fíli’s shoulder.  
  
When Bilbo rose they both politely turned their heads away, and the Hobbit started to splash his way out of the water.  
  
“Is Uncle looking?” Fíli whispered to Bofur as he couldn’t see much in that direction as Bofur’s head was in the way.  
  
“I’m sure he’s _busy_ ,” Bofur said in a low voice, laughter lurking around the edges. “ _Busy_ , really?”  
  
“I had to say something,” Fíli defended. “So is he looking or isn’t he?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?”  
  
“Because if he is then I don’t want to see it,” Fíli explained with a shudder. “ _Bilbo_ with that look in his eyes was quite enough, thank you.”  
  
“Well, he’s not looking, so it’s quite safe.”

What? Thorin wasn’t looking? Mahal save them (Fíli in particular) from stubborn uncles.  
  
Fíli leaned back so he could look at his Uncle, who was _actually_ very much looking at Bilbo, and the look was even worse then the one Bilbo had given uncle. What the blazes was the Hobbit doing to cause that kind of look, fondling himself?  
Fíli glanced over in Bilbo’s direction. Oh, well, _that_ explained it. Fíli pulled on one of Bofur’s braids as the other Dwarf chuckled.  
  
“Evil,” Fíli hissed and closed his eyes to try and block out the image of a naked Bilbo bent over his pack and the look of Thorin just barely restraining himself from doing _things_ , things Fíli really didn’t want to think about, to the Hobbit.  
  
“You deserve it,” Bofur said did that cute crinkled thing with his entire face. (Just calling it a smile did not do it justice Fíli thought) “Trying to run their lives for them.”  
  
“Hey, you’re helping me,” Fíli protested. “So what do you deserve.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Bofur murmured and shifted a little closer. “But I’d be much obliged if you’d let me know.”  
  
There was only one thing Fíli could do in reply to that, and this time Bombur wasn’t close enough to splash them. Well, at least not until after Fíli had managed to get both a second, third and fourth kiss from Bofur.

“Mister Baggins!” Dori called when Bilbo got closer to the spring again. “Would you be so kind to bring me my soap as well?”  
  
Fíli hid his face against Bofur’s neck.  
  
Despite their best (worst?) intentions there was no Hobbit ravishing that day. Twice more they managed to get Bilbo out of the water, and Thorin gradually sank further and further down into the water until he ressembled one of those big scaly things Fíli had seen in a book once. The kind that lurked just beneath the surface in case something small, tasty and defenceless would wander by. But either Bilbo didn't dare to go close enough, or Thorin's self restraint could not be broken that easily.  
  
On the whole Fíli still counted it as a small victory even if the entire battle was not yet won. It might not have _entirely_ worked, but at least Thorin and Bilbo now both knew what they were missing. Unfortunately Fíli had also seen more than enough.  
  
But the saving grace was that when they’d gotten dressed again Fíli got to braid Bofur’s hair for him. It might not have anything in particular to do with his uncle and Bilbo, but Fíli just found it hard to be upset about anything when getting to run his fingers through Bofur’s hair.  
  
He was still no closer to figuring out who Kíli’s love was though.  
  
Fíli hadn’t seen him really _look_ at anyone in the pool. He’d goofed around with Bombur for a while and then played some sort of game with Nori and Ori that apparently needed to have all three of them close their eyes and then wander around shouting for each other and a person called something like Marko?  
They had to be doing it wrong somehow or it was a very strange sport. Though that game _had_ required the three of them touching each other every now and again, when they’d found each other. Did that mean anything? Was it intentional? Was the closed eyes intentional so that Fíli could not see where Kíli was looking? Just how clever had his brother gotten at hiding things?  
  
In any case, it was clear that Fíli would need to go ahead and ask the Dwarfs left on his list of any changes in his brother’s behaviour. Perhaps he might as well ask the rest too. Discreetly. Surely someone had to have seen something? Anything would help at this point.  
  
But by the stone, there was no way Fíli was going to ask the Wizard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely comments on the last chapter! Hope you were not let down by this one.


	11. If It's Hopeless, Why Worry?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori sees more than anyone gives him credit for, Fíli and Bofur continues to be the couple best at sorting out misapprehensions, and there is a worry-party.

Fíli was polishing his sword. No really. He’d just finished sharpening it too.  
  
Nothing had attacked them so far on their journey (apart from a very angry badger) but that was no reason to let one’s guard down. The stop at the hot spring earlier that day had been wonderful and Fíli’s spine still felt very grateful to the warm water, but that relaxed feeling actually made the blond Dwarf all that more aware of the importance of not being _too_ relaxed. Even if the next foe would just be another badger Kíli would never let him live it down if it got the drop on him.  
  
While he worked Fíli contemplated the matter of his brother’s affections.  
  
Thorin had sent Dwalin and Balin ahead to scout for the rest of the afternoon, so Fíli had had the opportunity to ask some of the others if they’d noticed anything weird about his brother’s behaviour. Kíli had been properly occupied, again been riding together with Bombur - the occasionally roar of laughter from the two of them making Bofur look increasingly paranoid, an opinion Bilbo (who Bofur rode next to) seemed to share on general principle.  
  
Nori had looked rather evasive when Fíli had asked, which he’d considered a point in Nori’s favour as Kíli's chosen, until he’d remembered that the Dwarf always looked evasive and/or shifty.  
  
“Strange?” Nori had countered his question as he’d pulled on one braid.  
  
“Not himself,” Fíli had explained. “Seen him do anything unusual perhaps?”  
  
“Well, are we counting when it seemed like he’d give Thorin a run for his gold when it came to Hobbit courting?”  
  
“No,” Fíli had replied flatly.  
  
"What about the matchmaking you two are up to?"  
  
"No," Fíli said again.  
  
“Then no would be my answer as well.”

It was quite possible Nori knew more than he was revealing, but then again what had Fíli really expected. Maybe if he had some sort of information Nori wanted he could make a trade of sorts...  
  
When Nori had rode ahead to speak to Dori, Fíli had taken the opportunity to instead catch Ori alone.

“Um, a little I guess.” Had been the answer to Fíli's question.  
  
“How so?” Fíli had replied, trying to appear the right mix between concerned and casual.  
  
“He’s not been eating very much.” Ori had sounded very concerned, and that had given Fíli hope that _if_ it were Ori his brother had fallen for then the young Dwarf would perhaps return the feelings. Or if it was just Ori being his usual kind self, then he would be kinder still to Kíli if those feelings were unrequited.  
  
Kíli not eating properly was a cause for concern though, and Fíli promised himself to keep a better watch on his brother at mealtimes.  
  
Then Ori had gone ahead and really surprised Fíli.  
  
“Fíli,” he had said in a low voice. “Is Kíli- is he in _love_?”  
  
It was easy to look at Ori and see nothing but the youngest one in their company, someone innocent to the ways of the world and equally unknowing of how the people in it worked. But by accepting that as the _whole_ truth you disregarded what growing up with Nori as one of your primary guardians would lead to. And Dori was not to be overlooked either. While he was a little prone to coddling Ori he was not one to mince words or shy away from the truth.  
  
For that matter, by merely considering Ori as an innocent you forgot to take into account what losing both your parents at a very age would lead to (apart from two protective older brothers), as well as the fact that Ori was their scribe; a scholar by trade, and had likely already read more about life and Middle-Earth then Fíli ever would learn.  
  
When Fíli had said nothing, busy being flummoxed by Ori’s insightfulness, the young Dwarf had rushed on.  
  
“He seems _sad_ , sometimes. And if Mister Balin tells a story about people in love, Kíli _always_ looks sad. Even when there is a happy ending. Even when I know he liked them before.”

Ori had looked so worried that Fíli had found himself wanting to offer words of comfort, but the truth of the matter was that Kíli was in love, and was hurting because of it.  
  
“If I tell you yes, would you hazard a guess regarding who his affection would lie with?” Fíli had asked instead, hoping for Ori’s perceptiveness to give him an answer. Perhaps one including Ori himself.  
  
But their scribe had given a shake of his head instead. He did not know.

After that Fíli had engaged Ori in more light-hearted subjects, hoping to ease both their worries. He had been in no mood to further query the company about his brother’s behaviour anyway.

Kíli, still scheming with Bombur, had not noticed the turn in his brother’s disposition, but more than once that afternoon Fíli caught Bofur’s concerned gaze – which he had tried to calm with smiles (though they were perhaps a bit frayed around the edges). IN any case it was not surprising to Fíli, as he sat taking care of his weapons, to feel careful arms circle his shoulders.  
  
Fíli turned his head to meet Bofur’s eyes, which uncharacteristically lacked even the smallest twinkle.  
  
“Would you tell me what troubles you?” Bofur asked and moved around to crouch before Fíli. The blond Dwarf carefully put away his sword and the rag he’d use to rub it with.  
  
“Not here,” Fíli said, not wanting his brother to overhear. Rising he caught the eye of Dwalin who sat across the camp (Thorin was busy _not_ looking at Bilbo) and signalled that he and Bofur would leave for a short time.  
  
Dwalin looked particularly unimpressed and signalled back something rude that Fíli just shook his head at.  
  
They left hand in hand, Fíli knowing what it must have looked like to the others apart from Dwalin - who had surely seen the serious expressions on their faces, but the blond Dwarf didn't really much care.  
  
When they were some distance away from camp, into the forest, Fíli buried his head into Bofur’s neck and breathed deeply. Bofur’s hands came up to card through Fíli’s hair. Fíli sunk his own hands into Bofur’s messy locks.

“Have out with it then,” Bofur said and lightly stroked one hand down Fíli’s back. “It’s okay.”

“Kíli is in love with someone in our company,” Fíli blurted. “He won’t tell me who, he won’t tell them, but he thinks it’s unrequited and it’s hurting him.”  
  
Bofur relaxed (Fíli hadn’t noticed the other Dwarf was tense until he wasn’t) and he let out a sigh that sounded almost… relieved?  
  
“If _that_ is not what you thought I’d say, what did you expect?” Fíli asked and pulled back to see Bofur’s face. Bofur cupped his face and stroked two fingers along Fíli’s moustache.

“I’ll admit I was worried you wanted to end this- this courtship between us.”  
  
“What? No!” Fíli protested. Mahal, why did he even-?  “No!” he said again. “And if I would, this would be a pretty stupid way of doing it,” he added and gestured to the lack of space between their bodies.

Bofur chuckled a little, though the sound wasn’t completely happy.  
“You could have been trying to let me down easy.”  
  
Fíli pressed their foreheads together, bumping against Bofur’s hat.  
  
“Have you yet see me do _anything_ the easy way?” he murmured. When Bofur laughed this time it was more like his usual laugh and Fíli pressed their lips together, wanting to taste it.

When they parted it was from being even more closely pressed together than before and Fíli took a small step back to clear his mind, running a hand over his hair.

“So, just to make things clear, I’m unhappy about Kíli, not about _this_.”  
  
“What can I do to help?” Bofur asked simply and Fíli had to restrain himself from kissing him some more.  
  
“I wish I knew. He won’t _tell_ me who it is.” Fíli stared helplessly at Bofur. “He’s my little brother, and he’s _hurting_. And I can’t fix it.”  
  
“Matters of the heart can’t always be fixed,” Bofur said, shrugging a little with an apologetic look on his face. “You can’t pick who you fall for.”  
  
“But I’m sure he hasn’t even told whoever it is of his feelings, what if-“  
  
“You think you can make him tell?” Bofur interrupted. Fíli shook his head.  
  
“He takes after Thorin in that, you can’t make either of them do a thing if they’ve really decided against it.”  
  
“Where as you are timid and not at all stubborn,” Bofur teased with a gentle smile, and Fíli smiled back appreciating that Bofur tried to ease the tension.  
  
“Would I be a Durin if I wasn’t stubborn?” he replied. For a moment they just stood looking at each other, then Bofur sighed and wrapped his arms around Fíli’s middle.

“Sometimes all we can do is just be there, when they need us,” he said into Fíli’s ear. “Sometimes we can’t help the way we want to.”  
  
“I’m never having children,” Fíli muttered. “Having Kíli is quite enough.”  
  
“Aye, I sometimes find myself thinking the same about Bombur,” Bofur chuckled. “And I’m quite sure Bifur thinks the same, only with me included.”

For a while longer they just stood together and breathed. But it was not wise to linger too long away from the rest of their company, so back they went, hand in hand again.

Their return was met with a comment from Bombur: _‘Well that was fast’_ but as it was fairly obvious by the state of their clothes and hair that nothing much more than talk had transpired between them nobody else really paid them much attention.  
Minding one’s own business was perhaps not something _Fíli_ had succeeded in so far on this quest, but on the other hand he had really learnt to value discretion and he was thankful to his comrades.

A sulking Kíli sat next to Ori and Nori, but he relaxed a little when he saw Fíli’s and Bofur’s clasped hands. Fíli turned to Dwalin for an explanation as the bald Dwarf had met them by the edge of the clearing.  
  
“When he realised you were not going off for a romp I had to stop him from following you,” Dwalin said and crossed his arms. He glanced down on their entwined fingers and _his_ shoulders turned a little less stiff as well.  
  
Fíli sighed. Brilliant. He worried about Kíli and that made Bofur worry about their relationship and made Kíli worry about Fíli and apparently Dwalin worry about them both. The only thing missing-

“Is everything all right?” Thorin asked as he joined them.

That. Now nothing was missing. The circle of worry was complete.  
  
Fíli didn’t even _know_ what to think about the fact that his brother and uncle was worried about his relationship with Bofur when _they_ were the ones Fíli tried to help even have a relationship in the first place. If anyone didn't have trouble with love anymore it was Fíli. Not that Fíli _was_ in love, or… was he? He couldn’t even tell anymore.    
  
Trying not to let his thoughts show he smiled at Thorin and Dwalin, and over at Kíli as well (who relaxed further).  
  
“Everything is fine," he said, loud enough for Kíli to hear. "Well, except that we’re looking at yet another night where I except rocks will be digging into my spine.”  
  
“Speaking of hard things in your-“ Bombur called, but before he could complete what surely was going to be a rude comment Bifur came up and put his hand over the rotund Dwarf’s mouth.  Bofur shot his cousin a grateful look.  
  
Still hand in hand Fíli and Bofur went to sit by Bilbo by the fire, only separating when dinner was ready. Fíli tried to observe his brother and while he did eat, he did so with little enthusiasm. Curses.  
  
Bilbo had been observing Fíli and Bofur with concern mixed with something aking to amusement, but bless him, did not ask what they had been doing, and instead chattered on about how he wished to see the face of a Lobelia (who turned out to be a relative of sorts) when she realised that he would not be home for his birthday.  
  
“It’s not until September actually, but I asked Gandalf and he said that we are likely to not have reached Erebor by then. The world is quite a bit larger than one would imagine.”  
  
“Why would she care that you’re not home?” Fíli asked. “It does not seem as she’s fond enough of you to give you a gift.”  
  
“Oh, but she’ll be _wanting_ one,” Bilbo explained. “That’s how our Days work in the Shire. The one whose birthday it is gives the gifts.” He looked a little concerned. “Finding gifts for you all is going to be a challenge for sure.”  
  
“Personally I’ll consider that recipe for mushrooms you taught Bombur to be the value of two years of gifts,” Bofur said with a smile. “Usually I have no fondness for the things, but that was very nice.”  
  
Bilbo didn’t look convinced, but let the matter drop.  
  
Fíli remembered a thought he’d had early in the journey, when Thorin’s interest had first become obvious (to anyone but Bilbo that was).  
  
“How old will you be come September then, Mister Baggins?” he asked.  
  
Upon receiving the reply both Fíli and Bofur stared rather shocked at their burglar.  
  
“What?” Bilbo asked. “51 is a perfectly _respectable_ age. If anything it’s perhaps a little too respectable to really be running about on adventures.”  
  
“We are _not_ telling Uncle about this,” Fíli choked out.  
  
“I don’t see why he would even care,” Bilbo said a bit petulantly and crossed his arms.  
  
“Lad,” Bofur began and winced a little at the now seemingly too apt term. “Ori is the youngest _Dwarf_ in our company, and he just turned 72.”  
  
“Kíli is 77,” Fíli added a bit faintly.  
  
Now it was Bilbo’s turn to look shocked.  
  
“But they’re hardly more than tweens,” he protested before shaking his head. “Well, I knew Dwarfs lived longer than Hobbits but apparently knowing and _knowing_ is not the same thing.”

“Pardon the question,” Bofur said. “But how long do Hobbits live, on average?”  
  
“The Old Took got as far as 130, but average is usually somewhere around one hundred years.”  
  
The calculation was easy and the answer wasn’t as bad as it could have been. If Bilbo had about 50 (perhaps even 80) years left that was, well not plenty of time, but nothing to scoff at either.

Besides, what use was it anyway to worry about a silly thing like age when they were on a quest to battle a dragon.  
  
Still, it was probably best not to tell Thorin. Obviously their burglar was an adult, and grown enough to make his own choices, (Hobbits must mature a lot more quickly), but considering the difficulty Kíli had had to talk their uncle into being allowed to come… best not to mention anything that might only cause trouble.

“Right,” Fíli said and stood up. “I believe I have second watch so I’m going to get some rest. Goodnight, Bilbo.”  
  
“I’ll let you know I’m very much an adult,” Bilbo frowned, obviously not liking the looks he’d seen on Fíli’s and Bofur’s faces.

“Sure you are, lad,” Bofur said and patted his knee as he too rose to his feet. “Sure you are.”  
  
As they walked away Bofur whispered to Fíli:  
  
“If you ever tell Thorin, make sure Ori is around to draw his expression.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's age (in addition to his lack of beard) might just make Thorin have a bit of a freak-out if he were told. But I'm sure he'd come around. If not I'm sure Ori could knit a very nice beard for Bilbo to help with the healing process.


	12. Love Makes Fools Out of Us All?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bifur loves bad jokes, Kíli tells far from all - but at least a bit, and Thorin is really starting to regret not leaving his nephews with Dís back in Ered Luin.  
> In other news, the grass continues to be green and troll snot is still disgusting.

During the next couple of days Fíli managed to get both Bofur and Bombur on board with the ‘ _feed Kíli_ ’ plan and together with Ori they made sure that more often than not Kíli found himself with something edible within reach. He didn’t always eat it, but he did so often enough that Fíli felt a lot better about the situation.

Apart from feeding his brother Fíli had decided that he was taking time off from _fixing_ things.  
  
They had months still to go on this quest, _months_. He could afford to take a day or two off from trying to help his uncle and brother.

Instead he spent time with Bofur and Kíli, and with the rest of the company too of course. He especially tried to spend more time with the ones like Bifur and Gloín who he so far hadn’t really interacted much with. Gloín talked a little too much of his son for comfort, it was nice the first twenty minutes, but after the third hour Fíli felt he knew quite enough of young Gimli’s first axe and first braid and first goblin killed and so on.  
  
Apparently Gimli had been very upset about being considered too young to join the quest, (being only 62) and Fíli again reminded himself to do _anything_ to not let Thorin discover Bilbo’s age. At least not until they had been together for at least twenty years or so.

Bifur was a welcome change after Glóin as he didn’t talk until Fíli’s ears were prepared to abandon his head. Fíli had been worried that would have been a problem, charades had never been something Fíli had been particularly good at, but it turned out Bifur was able to make is opinion know surprisingly well despite using grunts and gestures and the occasional word in Khuzdul. And like Bombur he was surprisingly funny when you got to know him, even if his humour was a bit macabre.  
  
“Please,” Fíli said and tried to stop laughing. “No more jokes, I’m going to fall off my pony.”  
  
Bofur held up one finger and quirked one eyebrow.  
  
“Fine, one more,” Fíli snorted. “But only one.”  
  
Bifur grinned and cracked his knuckles. Then he started gesturing.  
  
“Okay, two Dwarfs?” Fíli said and Bifur nodded and then mimed someone mining.  
  
“Two Dwarfs mining…”  
  
Bifur grabbed at his chest and then sank down over the neck of his pony.  
  
“And they die?” At Bifurs raised finger Fíli amended:

“And _one_ of them dies?”  
  
Bifur nodded again and let two of his fingers run quickly through the air.  
  
“The other one goes for help...” Bifur pointed to Oín. “And gets a healer.”  
  
Bifur’s fingers ran back through the air.  
  
“When they get back to the mine the Healer says ‘ _Are you sure he’s dead?_ ” Bofur said as he came riding up beside them on the grass beside the road.  
  
Bifur swatted at his cousin, then pretended to grab his axe and swung the invisible axe down sharply. After having completed the blow he threw out his arms and raised his eyebrows inquiringly, finishing the move with a shrug.

“Now I am, so what do we do?” Bofur added, though it was rather unnecessary as Fíli was already laughing again.

One unexpected bonus of spending time with the rest of the company was the approving look in Thorin’s gaze. He didn’t say anything, big surprise there, but after another round of the Gimli: the Amazing Lad, Fíli met Thorin’s gaze and his uncle _smiled_ and nodded. Fíli never wanted to be king as it would mean that Thorin was no longer alive, and as such he hadn't much considered what traits in himself would make a good leader, but it still felt good to know his uncle was proud of him for trying to befriend everyone in their little group. Thorin valued loyalty probably above everything else.

Then came their stop at the abandoned ruins of a farmer’s house. Thorin had ordered Fíli and Kíli to look after the ponies; and as the animals seemed perfectly content chewing grass that was easy enough, but it soon became very boring. As night fell the ponies turned into shadows moving around in the meadow and Fíli had to stop taking care of his blades or else risk losing fingers.  
  
With nothing else to occupy his thoughts Fíli’s mind jumped to the subject he had been pondering for the last days, ever since Bofur had thought Fíli was meaning to end their courtship.

“Kíli?” he asked his brother who was sitting next to him on the ground beneath a large oak tree.  “How do you know if you’re in love?”  
  
Kíli looked trapped and his eyes darted around for the best escape route, so Fíli hurried to explain his question.  
  
“I don’t mean how do _you_ know, just how does one _one_ know?”

“I’d thought you’d know already,” Kíli said, still looking weary. “I mean, you and Bofur?”  
  
“That's what I don't know.  I think I do? Love him I mean. But what if I don't? What if he is just a friend I'd like to bed?” Fíli sighed. “I don’t want to hurt him,” he added, a bit miserably.  
  
Kíli took a slow deep breath and then let it out equally slowly.  
  
“Do you want to wake up next to him and fall asleep beside him?” he asked, face serious. “Do you think of him often - and not just about touching him, but wanting to see him smile? “You can’t think of anyone else. You even dream about him. And-“  
  
“Kíli…” Fíli interrupted and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You have to tell him.”  
  
Kíli shook his head.  
  
“I don’t need to. I already know what his answer would be.”

“But you can’t know for sure unless-“  
  
“I know!” Kíli almost shouted. “I don’t need to ask, I’ve all but climbed into his _lap_ but he was not interested. Not that I really thought he would be,” Kíli added more quietly.

It hurt to see his brother, his fierce and kind and talented little brother talk about himself as if he held so little worth. He couldn’t think that any of their company had been callous on purpose, but when he learnt who it was he was going to have a hard time to keep from punching them.  
  
Fighting not to ask Kíli for the identity of the person – as he knew his brother would not tell, all Fíli could think to ask was:  
“When?”

“When we were in Hobbiton, in Bilbo’s home,” Kíli’s lips twisted into a wry grin, completely lacking in joy.  
“I put my hand on his thigh, he removed it. I tried to touch his beard and he pushed my hand aside. I sat close to him, not even _meaning_ anything by it,” Kíli said with sad eyes. “You know how cramped it was with everything Hobbit-sized, but he managed to find space to move away. So I know I'm not wanted.”  
  
Fíli desperately tried to figure out who his brother had been seated next to, but it had been a long night and they had moved around quite a lot after finishing supper. But in any case, Ori was pretty much off the list now. If he was not interested it was more likely he would have blushed bright enough for Dori to notice and come to the rescue than it was that he'd just have brushed Kíli aside.

Not then any of the others would be hurtful on purpose, but he could imagine Dwalin, Bifur and Nori not really wanting to talk about what had occurred.  
  
Dwalin and Nori both shared the trait of thinking that if one ignored a problem (anything from a cracked rib to someone you owed coin) for long enough the problem stopped existing.  For Nori that was basically part of his reason for joining the quest, by going to Erebor he hoped there was quite a few people who might forget about him.  
  
And while Bifur might look wild he was really quite kind, and Fíli could imagine that his _problem_ would make a conversation of a sensitive nature fairly difficult and one he wanted to avoid.  
  
Balin though, Balin would gladly talk about anything, so it probably wasn’t him.  
  
And on second thought it seemed unlikely that Dwalin, who Fíli _knew_ felt very protective of Kíli would not have considered Kíli’s feelings on the matter and put them over his own.

So Fíli was down to two names on his list, still not counting that damned Wizard, but he didn’t really feel any better for it. And then he felt even worse as Kíli must have read his expression and actually tried to comfort _him_.  
   
“Don’t worry brother. I have his friendship, this I know. It is enough.” But the look on Kíli’s face clearly belied his words. Then a frown swept away his wavering smile.  
  
“Brother,” he said and got to his feet. “How many ponies did we have?”

Afterwards Fíli would make a list of the things he had learned from what happened next.  
  
The first would be that while joking with Bilbo was fine, almost getting him eaten by trolls was not.  
  
The second was not as much a lesson as it was a plan, because Fíli figured that a good way to deal with the dragon was just to make Thorin repeat the look he had given him and Kíli when they told him that their burglar had gone - completely unarmed, to steal back their ponies. If Thorin instead could glare that way at the dragon then Smaug would likely just go along with the command to get out of Erebor and that wold be that.  
  
Kíli obviously felt really bad about the whole thing, as did Fíli for that matter, but Thorin hadn’t really been any more pleased when his youngest nephew had run ahead of them to challenge the trolls on his own.  
  
And that’d be lesson number three, never allow his brother to do that ever again.  
  
Lesson number four would be that trolls were very stupid.  
  
Lesson number five: perhaps Bilbo was more cunning than the looks he gave Thorin would make him seem.  
  
Then there were many more lessons involving Wizards and Orcs and stupid brothers who risked their life much too carelessly, and lesson 20 through 30 involved new and exciting ways to make his uncle’s head almost explode (all involving Bilbo making delighted faces at Elf-related things).  
  
Despite being up all the night before and having spent a good part of the day running from Orcs it took Fíli awhile to fall asleep that night. His mind kept going to Bofur, admittedly not a very far leap as the older Dwarf rested inside Fíli’s arms.  He was almost entirely sure he loved Bofur. As sure as he felt he could be anyway.  
  
The final clue was that as they had thrown down their weapons to save Bilbo’s life Bofur’s hand at found Fíli’s and absurdly enough that had made the whole thing seem better.  
  
So the final lesson of that day was that he was in love and that apparently made him an idiot who thought being eaten by trolls wasn’t as bad as long as Bofur was there to hold his hand. Idiocy must be another family trait, only look at Thorin for confirmation.  
  
What little time that day he hadn’t spent glaring at the Elves (or Gandalf for putting him in the position in the first place) had been spent glaring at _Bilbo_ since the Hobbit had _not_ been glaring at the Elves. And judging by the downcast look on Bilbo’s face when he had noticed the glaring he hadn’t exactly taken that as a compliment.  (And this on top of Thorin masking fear for their burglar’s life with anger as he scolded Bilbo for being so careless.) Their burglar had spent the rest of the day moping, not even joining them for supper.  
  
This had led Fíli to wonder if Kíli hadn’t misunderstood the would-be rejection after all. Because why not make it a three for three Durins who turned into idiots when in love? Why would Kíli be the only one thinking logically?  
  
In the morning Fíli would ask Bofur his opinion. The other Dwarf wasn’t even remotely related to them so if, by the grace of the Valar he happened to be in love with Fíli (please please please) his head would not have turned to mush so he would perhaps be able to provide some insights.  
  
If not, then he could help come up with a new plan to get Bilbo and Thorin together, because after today they _really_ needed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, spoiler: I promise this it isn’t Fíli who is Kíli' love. I have like a plan? And Fíli isn’t it.  
> Lol, but I’ll admit I was kinda tempted to change it to be him after this bit as it would have been ridiculously easy. They are just so close!
> 
> And Thorin is just so frustrating because you know he would be all offended that Bilbo would have wanted to run off with the Elves when he was a kid. Thorin wants Bilbo to look at *him* with that big-eyed look of awe, not some damned weed-eaters. But does he say so? Nope. He just glares. *sigh*


	13. We Love The Things We Love For What They Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we finally get to know why Bofur was so skittish at the start of this mad tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is a quote from Robert Frost.

Gandalf had told Thorin that it’d be wise if the company left early the next morning, regardless of if he accompanied them or not. So already before dawn they were all up and trying to get ready as quietly as possible, that is, all except the Wizard who it seemed had been correct in his suspicions.  
  
Fíli’s sleep had been heavy and too short, and as he strapped on his swords he felt as if he performed the actions under water. It got better once they were outside and had started the climb away from Rivendell, but he kept to the back as he figured that this morning his eyes would not be good for any scouting.  
  
Bofur seemed to be in a good mood and joked and teased Bombur as he huffed and puffed his way upward the fairly steep climb. Ori overheard them and looked ridiculously horrified at Bofur’s suggestion that they perhaps should have stayed and enjoyed the Elves’ green food a little longer and their youngest member moved along their column until he was walking by Kíli.  
   
When they were a decent way up into the mountain Fíli saw how Bilbo stopped to look back, down into the valley. Thorin noticed too, of course, and his mouth thinned. But, to his credit (and Fíli’s surprise) he stopped himself from insulting the Elves and _almost_ managed to avoid insulting Bilbo as well.  
  
Though on the whole it could have been a lot worse than a suggestion that Bilbo should keep up with the rest of them lest he fall behind.

Perhaps it was a shame that they could not have stayed longer. Maybe Kíli’d had the right idea with his jealousy plan after all. Another day of watching Bilbo admire Elves might just have pushed Thorin over the edge and forced him to make certain confessions. Or maybe he just would have tried to push any nearby Elves over the closest edge. Rivendell had a lot of sharp drops after all.  
  
Bilbo likely would frown on murder, so on second thought it was best that they left.

Their trek would take them across the Misty Mountains, but for at least a few more nights they would remain on the on the mountain slopes so when they made camp that night it was at the bottom of a grass covered hill. As Fíli finally felt awake he offered to take the first watch, and to his delight Bofur joined him.  
  
Thorin and Dwalin both gave him stern looks as they retired, as if Fíli was going to shirk his duties to fool around with Bofur. Okay, maybe they weren’t completely wrong, but if the troll incident had told him anything (apart from the 30 plus lessons he’d written down on the scroll he’d nicked from Ori) it was that letting your guard down was not a smart thing to do.  
  
Though just because his eyes were busy looking for trouble that didn’t mean that his arms could not busy themselves by sneaking around Bofur’s middle. If he could wield two swords at the same time he could manage to look for enemies and hold Bofur at the same time.  
  
For a while they just talked about idle things, like mining and hunting, and Bofur told more stories about living in Erebor. Fíli considered asking for advice regarding his brother, but felt that it was not the right moment.  Instead he remembered that there was something else he had meant to tell Bofur. Well, two things, but confessions of love could also wait until they were not surrounded by their snoring comrades.  
  
“I didn’t thank you for earlier,” Fíli murmured. “For what you did for Bilbo I mean.”  
  
“I did something for Bilbo?” Bofur said a bit confused.  
  
“When we got to Rivendell, and the Elves rode in around us, you pulled him behind yourself, protected him.” Fíli snorted a little. “Uncle is the one who should thank you, but as he won’t I’m glad to do it.”  
  
“Well, I was glad to do _that_ ,” Bofur said, then lowered his voice. “Don’t tell our burglar I said so, but ever since I learnt of his age I just keep seeing Bombur when he was 50.” He let out a sigh. “I know Bilbo really isn’t that _young;_ despite his age, being a Hobbit and all, but this lump I got on my shoulders is having a hard time catching on.”

“Which is exactly why Thorin must never know,” Fíli whispered back. “He’d finally burst that vein that throbs in his forehead when he is upset and I’m much too young to become king.”  
  
“Lucky for me.”  
  
Bofur said it very, very softly, perhaps not intending to be heard, but Fíli’s hearing was sharp and he did _not_ like what those words suggested.  
  
“What do you mean by that?” Fíli asked. “No wait, I’m _not_ having another conversation which will lead to trolls sneaking up on me. Or Orcs, or more damned Wizards. Hold that thought, our watch is just about done anyway, I’ll go wake Glóin and Oín.”  
  
And so he did and then proceeded to collect a tense Bofur and drag him and their bedrolls just away a bit from the others, just enough that their voices would not carry if they kept fairly quiet.  
  
Fíli sat down cross-legged on his bedroll and stared expectantly up at Bofur until the other Dwarf joined him. Their knees almost touched so Fíli shuffled forward until they did, then put his hand on Bofur’s -trying to ignore the way Bofur first tensed further at the contact. _Too bad if I'm pushing some boundary now_ , Fíli thought a bit sourly. Bofur could just suck it up until he’d explained himself.  
  
“What did you mean by that?” Fíli asked to give Bofur a chance to do just that.

 At first it didn’t seem like he’d say anything, but then Bofur let out a sigh.  
  
“Let me ask you this first,” he said slowly. “When you first approached me, you did that because I was the only option available to you on this quest, isn't that right? I was convenient.”

 Fíli must have looked offended, he certainly felt it, but Bofur held up his hand, sadly the one Fíli had claimed earlier, and said:  
“Ah, I’m not saying you don’t like me, but what you said was essentially that if I wanted to bed you’d not be against it.”  
  
“I’ve already told you that those words were not really what I had intended to say,” Fíli said a bit grumpily, but a little wriggling thing had made camp in his stomach.  
It was true that perhaps at the very, most early _beginning_ he had considered Bofur as the best option of the ones available, _but_ that did not meant that Fíli hadn’t also noticed just how handsome and kind Bofur was. He was not desperate. He would not bed someone just for the sake of doing so, not if there hadn't been any attraction.  
  
Also, and Fíli wasn’t exactly proud of it, but he had spent entirely too much time just thinking about what the colour of Bofur’s eyes should be called (It was green, but was it more a mossy green or the kind that the trees turned in the spring? He'd think he’d figured it out, but then, all of a sudden, they were suddenly the warm green of the grass a summer’s morning.)  so it certainly could not be considered a matter of _convenience_. That little wriggly thing could just get out of his belly and go choke on a leaf.  
  
“What I meant was that this,” Bofur gestured at the two of them,” This would never have happened if we weren’t on this quest together. And while I appreciate that you want to do things the right way,” Bofur’s eyes had softened into that summer grass green again and he curled his fingers around Fíli’s again. “I really _do_ appreciate that, but like I said, I’m not expecting you’ll marry me. You’re a _prince_ , you’re going to be king one day, what would you do with someone like me hanging around? I’m just a miner.” Bofur’s mouth twitched a little beneath his moustache. “These days I’m not even that, just a toymaker.”

Apparently Fíli could not count on Bofur’s advice for Kíli after all, the Dwarf was just as big of an idiot as he himself was. And he clearly needed to be made aware of that fact. But when Fíli opened his mouth what came out was a little different, and it sounded _a lot_ more hurt then he could have imagined.

“If you think that it would not last, why did you accept my courtship?”  
  
Bofur turned his eyes away, but Fíli cupped his face with his free hand and turned made him look at him. Now the green of his eyes had turned darker, like oak leafs.  
  
“I guess I figured that in the end, whatever you’re willing to give me is better than having nothing,” Bofur whispered and lowered his gaze.

Again Fíli surprised himself as he felt a chuckle make its way up his throat. He didn’t want Bofur to think he was laughing at him so he tried to choke it down, which naturally resulted in him choking on air which led to a round of coughing. Not very dignified, but he didn’t have time to worry about that.  
  
As soon as he could breathe again Fíli said, still slightly choked:  
  
“So if I want to give you everything, would you have any issue with that?”  
  
Bofur’s mouth opened, but it appeared he was at a loss for actually words. This suited Fíli just fine as he figured it was his turn to speak.  
  
“If I wanted _convenient_ I would not have pursued you further after you turned me down that first time. And if I thought things had no chance of becoming serious between us I would not have courted you. If I had not wanted a miner and a toymaker I would not have fallen in love with one.”

For a moment there was silence between them and Fíli could feel his cheeks flush slightly.  
  
“I understand if you don’t-“ he began but then Bofur’s whiskers were tickling his own moustache and Bofur’s lips silenced his.

Fíli’s fingers curled in Bofur’s braids and pulled just slightly and Bofur was apparently more than fine with climbing into Fíli’s lap. Unfortunately he didn’t really fit all that well in it and they ended up falling to the ground with Bofur on top of Fíli. But the sudden lack of air in Fíli’s lungs was just a minor set-back, and they soon continued kissing again.  
  
In the back of his head Fíli accepted defeat in his attempt to not get distracted again, but at least this time it was for a good cause and not a broken heart. When they parted Bofur smiled down at him, the twinkle firmly back in his eyes. “  
  
"You are so lovely,” he said and stroked Fíli’s hair away from his face. “Even if you’re completely daft for thinking there might be a chance I did not love you.”

“Runs in the family,” was all Fíli could think to say in his relief. "Just be glad I'm the clever one and did not resort to mooning over you for weeks and weeks."  
  
Bofur laughed and kissed him again.  
  
By mutual agreement no clothes were removed that night either, but when they made it back to the others they were a little more rumpled than when they had left and Fíli flushed a little when he saw Glóins sly smile. But it was hard to care about such things as Bofur once again curled up behind him, and their legs and hands tangled together until it was hard to say which limb belonged to which Dwarf, and this time Fíli did allow himself to sigh happily at the feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps one of our couples is finally well and firmly on the same page. Only two couples to go people! And then the fluff will drown us all!


	14. Practice Makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They company spends another couple of days camping on their way to the passage through the Misty Mountains.  
> Fíli makes Bofur's bum hurt, Kíli feels a small prick, actully, a lot of small pricks, and Thorin shows Bilbo how to handle his sword.
> 
> (And the author and Bombur goes to sit in the same naughty corner.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos and *reads* :D You are awesome!
> 
> I have to say I *love* that regarding Kíli's love interest some of you are going “It has to be ORI!” and some of you are saying the same thing about Dwalin and Nori. That you don’t know yet for sure (or at all? ;) ) makes me feel all sorts of sneaky.

The next few days were uneventful, at least in the way that nothing in particular happened. Or at least nothing that would be remembered by history. (Though you never knew with Ori, their scribe wrote down the most peculiar things at times.)  
  
For most part they walked, walked, and walked some more, as well as hunted seeing as they hadn't really been able to resupply in Rivendell.  
  
Kíli seemed to perk up as he got the chance to show off with his stick and string ("It's called a _bow_ , brother!") and Bilbo also seemed more cheerful when he realised he'd be able to help gather some edible plants. On the whole their burglar seemed more comfortable being back on his own two feet again, even though he appeared to miss his pony. Fíli overheard him talking to Bofur about her more than once.  
  
Fíli and Kíli had both tried to make amends for almost getting Bilbo eaten by trolls, and while he appeared to like them well enough he still seemed a bit _uneasy_ around them. Either he didn’t trust them (not that Fíli would blame him), or well, Fíli didn’t really know what- Perhaps he thought Thorin wouldn’t approve for some weird reason? Or he was still carrying a grudge about the little game they had made out of his plates.  
Regardless, Fíli was glad Bofur had become friends with their burglar. Everyone needed a friend, and with Bofur being taken, Thorin couldn’t even brood about the time the two spent together. Or well, he could _try_ , but he didn’t have much material to work with seeing as Bofur _clearly_ belonged with Fíli.

He was sure he'd been caught staring at the other Dwarf often enough for everyone else to also know his feelings, and ever since they had expressed their affection for one another once and for all, Fíli figured his looks had increased in frequency. (And soppiness.)  
  
Perhaps that's where his uncle went wrong, the staring part he had down, but he just needed to smile more. Actually let his face show what he was thinking.  
Maybe that was aiming too high... He could perhaps start with not frowning? Not all the time?

Though it actually appeared that Thorin was slowly, slower than sleeping snail, was trying to also befriend their burglar. In his own way.

When Fíli first saw it happen he was shocked enough to walk straight into Bofur. They both fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs - not nearly as pleasant as the one they got themselves into at night, and Bofur had the bad luck to land on a sharp piece of rock.

“Are you all right?” Fíli said and got to his feet, bending down to give Bofur a hand up.  
  
“More or less,” Bofur grumbled and rubbed his backside. “But what is it with you and making me fall on my arse. This time I wasn’t even remotely sneaking up on you.”  
  
“Did he make you fall for him?” Nori snickered as he walked by.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Fíli apologized as they started to walk again.  
When he continued it was with a lower voice. “But I was _distracted._ By what Uncle said to Bilbo.”  
  
“Let me guess, he accidentally said something upsetting again.”  
  
“No, he- he was trying to make small talk,” Fíli said, feeling a mix between shocked and horrified. “He mentioned the _weather_.”  
  
“How upsetting indeed,” Bofur said wryly.  
  
“Thorin never talks just to talk,” Fíli explained. “He just doesn’t say anything if there’s not something that _needs_ to be said. Just ask Kíli if you don’t believe me.”  
  
But Bofur didn’t need to ask Kíli, because when the young Dwarf noticed what his uncle was up to he was distracted enough to walk completely off the path and into a pine tree. 

“Ouch,” he whined as Ori helped him pick the needles out of his hair.  
  
“See,” Fíli said to Bofur. “It’s just not _normal_.”

That night when they made camp Thorin declared that it was time for Bilbo learn how to wield his blade.  
  
Bilbo was not exactly enthusiastic about learning to use his sword properly (“It is a sword, no matter what Balin says, it’s not a letter opener!”) and while Thorin was a good teacher he perhaps wasn’t the most patient one. There was a reason Dwalin had been the one responsible for teaching Fíli and Kíli after all, and it wasn’t really that Thorin just hadn’t had the time.  
  
But at least it provided good entertainment. The rest of the company didn’t even try to pretend that they were not watching

“You are too tense,” Thorin said to Bilbo as they circled each other, swords drawn. “If you act like a stick you will be all too easy to break.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Bilbo said a bit sarcastically. “I've disocvered I tend to get tense when someone points a weapon my way. Terribly inconsiderate of me, I’m sure.” Well, more than a _bit_ sarcastically perhaps.  
  
“And pull your arm back,” Thorin continued. “Bend your elbow. It’s the sword you should have pointed at your opponent, not yourself. You can’t keep me away from you by just stretching out your arm between us.”  
  
“I don’t think keeping Thorin away really is what our burglar desires,” Bofur murmured to Fíli as they sat together with the rest of the company on a pretty unsubtle row, on top of a fallen tree.  
  
“Perhaps he can ask Thorin for help _polishing_ his sword later,” Bombur mused, looking very innocent. “It requires a firm and steady hand.”  
  
Fíli and Kíli shared a pained look.  
  
“The most important thing is to assess the situation. What do you think would be a good strategy to use against me?” Thorin asked and took a step closer to Bilbo, making the Hobbit take one step back.  
  
“Perhaps getting rid of some clothes?” Bombur suggested quietly, snickering when Fíli and Kíli this time threw pine cones at him.  
  
“Let’s see,” Bilbo said. “You are bigger, stronger, the better fighter. You have a bigger sword-“

 _“Shut up, Bombur.”_  
  
“And I’m about as likely to drop mine on my feet as I am to actually get it anywhere near you.”  
  
To Bilbo’s credit he did not take his eyes off of Thorin as they moved around the clearing. Erm, well, _actually_ the Hobbit spent quite a lot of time looking at him anyway, so maybe it wasn’t such a good indication of tactical ability after all.

“I think my best option would be to run away,” Bilbo concluded, clearly bracing himself for mockery.  
  
Thorin merely nodded.  
  
“The greatest swordsman never needs to draw his sword,” he said and Bilbo looked surprised.  
  
“Running away is only shameful if you do it because you are afraid.”  
  
Bilbo frowned and his mouth twitched.  
  
“If you do it _only_ because you are afraid,” Thorin clarified. “Fear can be useful, it makes you cautious, but it is only useful as long as you don’t let it control you.”  
  
Their burglar lightened a bit at that and even relaxed a little, his stance now looking less like someone had shoved a steel rod up his backs- spine. Up his _spine_.

“If you can’t run away, or if running away is not the best option, what do you do then?” Thorin prompted and feigned a thrust Bilbo jumped back from.  
  
While it was a good instinct to draw back rather than waving his sword at Thorin – leaving himself open to another attack – Fíli still winced a little at the way Bilbo moved. _Jumping_ was unfortunately a _more_ than apt word to describe their burglar’s defensive action, if he kept that up it wouldn’t take much for Thorin to get him to lose his balance and to have the Hobbit on the ground...  
  
Gah!  
  
Fíli glared at Bombur who actually looked honestly innocent for once. That did not matter, Fíli still blamed him for making him think _everything_ had a double meaning.  
  
“What do you do?” Thorin repeated when Bilbo didn’t answer.  
  
“Yell for help?” Bilbo said hopefully.  
  
“If there is no help to be found?”  
  
“He better not faint,” Glóin grumbled. And because Glóin was his usual discreet self, Bilbo heard him and got distracted.  
Thorin was quick enough to use that to his own advantage, and a well-placed foot had Bilbo tumbling to the ground and dropping his sword.  
  
“Never let go of your blade,” Thorin admonished as he held it out to Bilbo, hilt first. Muttering under his breath Bilbo got back up and took the blade. Thorin would not release it.  
  
“You are small,” he stated, and Bilbo’s chin tilted up defensively. “But that means there is less of you to hit. You are quick, and your blade is sharp. If there is only one opponent you should try and cut their legs and arms, swift strikes, bleed them until they are weakened.”  
  
“And if there are more than one?” Bilbo looked a mix between pleasantly surprised and wary, like the other shoe would drop at any moment. Or perhaps not a shoe as Hobbit’s did not need them. Fíli was kind of waiting for that shoe himself. Thorin surely would say something offensive soon, wouldn’t he?  
  
“Don’t let them surround you - be quick and get close enough to stab the first one before the others have even considered you a threat. Avoid their strikes, you do not have the strength to meet them yet, and get inside their guard. If they are larger they will likely leave their legs exposed.”  Thorin gestured down at himself. “Aim for the tendon at the back of their knees if you can, this one here, if they are on the ground they are less of a threat to you.”

Bilbo and Thorin now stood very close to each other, faces and bodies both angled towards the other and gazes locked.  
  
Next to Fíli his brother put his hand over his eyes.  
  
“Tell me when I can look,” Kíli hissed.  
  
Bofur snorted.  “Will you be getting a blindfold when they actually get together?”  
  
“Ah, already got one,” Kíli replied, gazing into his own palm. “And I’m trying to figure out something that can be used for ear plugs.”  
  
Thankfully Bilbo and Thorin appeared to be oblivious to the discussion going on behind them.  
  
“Thank you,” Bilbo said very earnestly, looking up at Thorin. The Hobbit took another small step forward. “I-“ he began, and then his stomach growled, loud enough to be heard over to where the others were sitting.

“And it was going so well,” Dori sighed quietly.  
  
“You can look now,” Bombur said to Kíli.

Bilbo blushed and took a step back.  
  
“Sorry,” he said.  
  
“Are we not feeding you properly?” Thorin questioned as they had already had supper that night. Fíli sighed at the way Thorin’s tone made it sound like he was insulted by the very thought.  
  
“It’s fine,” Bilbo said. “I found some bread while we were at Rivendell, and that has been remarkably filling.”  
  
Fíli sighed again and shuffled closer to Bofur. So it wasn’t _Thorin_ who would be the one with the accidental insults tonight after all.  
  
“Elves,” Thorin scoffed. “They know little about proper food.”  
  
Out of the corner of his eye Fíli could see Ori nodding ardently.  
  
“Well, either way I’m _fine_ ,” Bilbo stressed. “I completely understand why we can’t stop seven times a day to eat as I’m accustomed to.”  
  
“Seven times?” Bombur said with a dreamy tone of voice. “Perhaps we should have stayed a little longer in the Shire.”  
  
This time more heads than Ori’s nodded.  
  
“Even so,” Thorin said, looking slightly surprised at Bilbo’s revelation. “There is no need for you to go wanting when there is plenty to eat. Until we go up into the mountains we’ll have ample opportunity to hunt. There’s no cause for you to eat dry bread.” The last was said with a shadow of the sneer from before lingering.  
  
“It’s not that bad,” Bilbo defended and Fíli held his breath.. “But thank you. I appreciate your concern.”  
  
Crisis averted Fíli relaxed again.  
  
“Bombur!” Thorin called. “Make our burglar something to eat. And everyone else too if they care for it.”  
  
The company all looked at each other and shrugged. They could always eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because one (the first bit) of my favourite scenes ever is this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ALWBjtaQA60
> 
> Also, doesn't Thorin seem like the type who'd want to feed people he cared about? It'd be another way to sneakily provide for them without having to open his mouth and say so.


	15. The Plot Is Now Thicker Than A Half-Witted Troll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Um, see the chapter title.

The next morning Fíli found himself sitting alone with Dwalin during breakfast. While Fíli had mostly given up the idea of an investigation he still thought there was no harm in asking Dwalin if he’d noticed anything strange about Kíli lately. As it would turn out, he could not have been more wrong.

“Stranger than normal you mean?” Dwalin snorted. “Lad, we are on a quest to slay a dragon. If he didn't act a little strange I would think he he’d left his mind in Ered Luin.”  
  
“He’s not scared,” Fíli defended.  
  
“He should be,” Dwalin rumbled and went back to eating.

Unbeknownst to Dwalin Fíli spent the following minutes of silence pondering the likeliness (and unlikeliness) of Dwalin being the one Kíli loved.  
  
They’d known him both their lives, though unlike Balin, Dwalin had often left Ered Luin for fairly long periods at a time. Sometimes on behalf of Thorin, sometimes on his own accord.  
  
Fíli didn’t always know where he’d gone, sometimes he’d just be gone one morning, and then six months later he’d be back with a new tattoo or a new scar - or both, but would not speak of where he’d been. Dwalin was a very capable warrior and Fíli figured he’d gone to other Dwarf kings and offered them his skills at killing Orcs, because that would also explain why he hadn’t wanted to tell Thorin’s young nephews about it. (Perhaps now Dwalin would consider them grown up enough to finally tell them the whole story.)  
  
Dwalin might look like he’d bite your head off for looking at him the wrong way, and that might be correct if you _did_ offend him, but to his friends and family he was very overprotective. _Very_.  
  
Fíli had even seen him trying to mother Thorin, which had gone over about as well as could be expected. Still didn’t stop Dwalin from trying though. So it wasn't at all a stretch of the imagination that he would have kept silent about certain things in the past. But that was kind of beside the point wasn't it.

Fíli knew Kíli liked Dwalin, of course he did, but did he like him _that_ way?  
  
He would be breaking what seemed to have become a family tradition if he did.  
  
Fíli knew their mother had barely more than cast one look his father before deciding that they should marry.  
Thorin had started staring broodingly at Bilbo, well, right from the start, but his looks had gotten that edge of _longing_ maybe on the third day or so of their journey. (When Bilbo finally stopped complaining about his lack of handkerchiefs.)  
And while Fíli might not have loved Bofur right from the start (here Fíli _completely_ ignores how the weird sensations inside him always t been located more in the chest region – and not the groin region, but he’s thick like that sometimes) he’d known he’d wanted him almost instantly after they first met in Bilbo’s smial.

Actually, in order for Kíli to behave as a proper Durin he would have to be in love with either Bombur or Bifur (Bofur was taken, thanks very much), as they were the only ones they hadn’t known at the start of the quest. Except Bilbo and Gandalf, but no. Just no.  
  
Thinking about the three miners turned toymakers Fíli remembred that he ought to thank Dwalin for being the reason he was in a courtship with Bofur.

Dwalin and Bifur had gotten to know each other way back when they fought together in one of the bigger battles against the Goblins (pre-axe for Bifur) and they had apparently kept in touch (even post-axe). Because they would have to know each other well enough to make _Going to reclaim Erebor, want to come_? sound like a good idea. Fíli's gratitude came in when Bofur and Bombur decided to come with their cousin, for gold and glory - and as Bofur put it, free beer. 

Back to Kíli. The last update Fíli had done to his mental list of Kíli’s love interest had only included Dwalin, Nori and Bifur, and based on sheer Durin-ness then perhaps Bifur was the obvious answer?

Fíli’s eyes sought out Bifur where the other Dwarf was sitting next to Bofur and Bombur. He did have a mighty fine beard. And with that axe in his head it wasn’t impossible that he had misunderstood Kíli’s actions in Bilbo’s home, or that he simply hadn’t meant for his own to be those of rejections. If the axe screwed up his speech it obviously affected his thoughts as well. So perhaps there was hope still.  
  
Hang on.  
Fíli frowned. Did he want someone like that for his little brother? Sure, Fíli liked Bifur well enough himself, but what if the other Dwarf's little problem would cause more problems for Kíli. What if-  
  
Then Fíli forced himself to stop thinking in that direction, no need to make things overly complicated.  
  
Until he knew for _sure_ it was Bifur that held Kíli’s heart he would not concern himself with what the other Dwarf might _do_ with it. He’d try not to concern himself in any case...

“Stop frowning or you’ll start to look like your uncle,” Dwalin rumbled and elbowed Fíli.

“Oh, I could never hope to reach that level,” Fíli joked and pushed back.

“Is it your brother that troubles you still?” Dwalin asked more seriously. “He’s perhaps been a little quieter than normal, but hardly enough to warrant that expression on your face.”

By the stone, he might as well… regardless of it was Dwalin or not, he was as good as family. Perhaps he could help.  
Fíli leaned closer to Dwalin and lowered his voice.  
  
“Kíli is in love,” he said softly. “And I find myself a little worried for him.”  
  
To Fíli’s complete surprise Dwalin just nodded sagely. The blond Dwarf didn’t know what he had been expecting (jealousy would have been interesting and useful if it turned out that it was Dwalin Kíli wanted ) but that wasn’t it.  
  
“So you’ve noticed as well,” Dwalin said. “I don’t see why you need to be worried about those two though, it’s pretty clear they get along well enough. Always have.”  
  
“You _know_ who Kíli is interested in?” Fíli asked, even more shocked.  
  
“Laddie, are you telling me you _don’t_?” Dwalin said disbelievingly. “Just look at them.”  
  
Fíli turned is gaze to where his brother was sitting with _Ori_. Or actually, sitting didn’t quite cover it, Kíli was more or less hanging over their scribe has he drew something on a piece of parchment Ori was holding.  
  
“Ori?” Fíli said. “But-“ He stopped himself from adding the part about Ori already being off his _list_. No need to make himself sound more insane then necessary.  
  
It couldn’t be Ori. Could it? With the way Kíli had described his attempt to make his feelings known it just seemed so strange for the other person to be Ori; Fíli just couldn’t see him calmly stopping Kíli’s wandering hands.  But Dwalin seemed so _sure_ , so where did that leave Fíli with his theories.  
  
Mahal, this just kept getting worse and worse.

“It seems that way to me,” Dwalin said and shrugged before standing up to go and clean his now empty bowl.

Just then Kíli laughed and said something that made Ori blush and Fíli’s mind tried to turn itself into a knot.  
  
If Kíli acted that way with Ori then it had to mean that it _wasn’t_ Ori because if it _was_ Ori then Kíli wouldn’t act in a teasing, (flirty) way because he’d fear being rejected again?

_Unless_ he had come to the same conclusion as Fíli and figured that whatever had transpired in Hobbiton had perhaps not been as dire as Kíli first had believed it, and this was a second attempt?

Fíli discreetly glanced at the other two on the list, apart from Dwalin who was scrubbing out his bowl.   
Bifur was still talking and gesturing at his cousins, but Nori was actually frowning a little at Kíli and Ori.   
  
But was this because he was jealous, because he disapproved of anyone making time with his little brother, or because he thought Kíli was teasing Ori? Pr just because he was in a bad mood?

Or something else entirely.

Well, if it was Ori then Kíli would also be breaking with family tradition. They’d known the three brothers for at least thirty years.

Fíli sighed. Well, at least the Kíli situation could not get _any_ more complicated. Or so he thought. But that particular day seemed not to have been Fíli's best for coming to valid conclusions. And when evening fell he did not fare much better.

That night Fíli almost choked on his tongue (and earlier thoughts) when he found Kíli and Bilbo embracing one another.   
  
Fíli _had_ gone outside their camp looking for both of them actually, but he hadn’t really figured on finding them together, especially not _together_.

“What in Durin’s name-“ Fíli started to say, but at his words the pair turned their heads towards him he saw tears on Kíli’s cheeks and another kind of shock made him swallow the rest of his rant.  
  
“Kíli?” he asked instead, much more softly and slowly moved closer. “What has happened?”

“Nothing,” Kíli said stubbornly and wiped at his cheeks. Bilbo seemed to realise that he was still touching Kíli and jumped back in the same way he had from Thorin’s sword the night before. Still wasn't a valid defence.  
  
Without saying another word Kíli brushed by Fíli and went back to camp. That left Fíli and their burglar, who looked nervously at the blond Dwarf.  
  
“If you’ll excuse me-“ Bilbo began.  
  
“You know, I think I will not,” Fíli growled. “Why was Kíli crying?”  
  
Bilbo looked extremely uncomfortable and shuffled his feet.  
  
“Tell me,” Fíli commanded.

“It’s not really your business is it,” Bilbo protested and crossed his arms. Fíli swore.  
Mahal, the Hobbit’s stubborn streak when it came to direct orders was a lot more amusing when it was turned on his uncle.  
  
“And is it any more your business?” Fíli asked between clenched teeth.  
  
“Well, not as such,” Bilbo admitted and deflated a bit. “But I could hardly leave him alone when he was so sad. Not when I know how it-“ Bilbo shook his head. “Never mind.”  
  
“You already know that _I_ know he is in love,” Fíli argued. “And I assume that’s what this was about.” By the look on Bilbo's way he felt that his assumption had been correct.  
  
Had it been Ori after all? Had Kíli been rejected again?  
  
“Just tell me if he mentioned a name,” Fíli appealed.

Bilbo shook his head with a sigh.  
  
“He didn’t, just that it was one of the company. And I don’t think he even meant to say that much. He, eh," The Hobbit rubbed at his neck. "I don’t think _he_ thought I’d know what he was talking about. Seeing as there's no real reason for me to know that he is in love in the first place.”  
  
Fíli swore some more, the situation seemed to call for it. Stupid little brothers who was too damned stubborn for their own good. Bilbo winced a little when the blond Dwarf got really creative.  
  
“Yes, quite,” he agreed. “Um, so I’m going to go back to camp now.”

Still muttering Fíli followed, and when he got back to camp he saw Kíli sitting next to Thorin- The two of them were apparently having a contest of who could brood the hardest. Lovely.

Fíli stomped off to Bofur, Bifur and Bombur and flopped down at Bofur’s feet.  
  
Damn it all. Taking back Erebor would be easy compared to this nonsense. Grumbling to himself he reached up and stole Bofur's hat.  
  
"Hey now," Bofur protested. "What are you doing with that?"  
  
"I'm trading Kíli for it," Fíli growled. "Congratulations, he's all yours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading along as I write my silly little story, but can I lend your eyes a moment more to tell you something important?
> 
> Did you know that a woman having a heart attack is more likely to have back or jaw pain than chest or left arm pain? I certainly spent a long time *not* knowing – one of the reasons is because I’d never seen a woman having a heart attack. Not even on the telly. 
> 
> You can’t show a topless woman on the telly after all, the horror (!) of breasts, and defibrillating someone in a bra is a bad idea. 
> 
> And it’s the same way with illustrations in those little booklets you get during CPR training and First Aid-courses. Always a guy going for his chest or arm.
> 
> So if you could take a minute of your day and pass this along on FB or Tumblr or just tell a friend when you meet for coffee, you might end up saving someone’s life.
> 
> Thank you!


	16. It Can Always Get Worse! Says The Optimist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fíli is finally well and truly fed up with Thorin’s behaviour and calls him on it.  
> Oh, and everyone almost dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speedy update for the win!

When Fíli went to bed (alone because Bofur was on watch) he was still quietly fuming. He knew it did not make all that much sense to be this upset with Kíli, but that didn’t matter, he still was _this_ upset with his brother.   
  
If it hurt Kíli this much then he _had_ to tell Fíli who he was in love with so Fíli could help. By this point he’d gladly, okay, perhaps not _gladly_ , but even if it was the Wizard Fíli would welcome the information by this point.  
  
If it really was unrequited then Fíli could still help by explaining to Kíli why the other Dwarf (because, really, please don’t let it be Gandalf) clearly was an idiot. And then he could possibly, accidentally, shave the beard of said idiot for hurting Kíli. It would be only the beard because he still didn’t think anyone in their company would be knowingly cruel, but really, that was no excuse for idiocy.

The only bright spot of Fíli’s evening, apart from Bofur of course – though he was still a bit sore about the hat-napping – had been that Kíli continued brooding and kept to himself, and as such, didn’t give Fíli any further headaches by trying to analyse his behaviour with the others. It was a tiny victory, but with the way Fíli’s head was feeling it was a necessary one.  
  
Fíli abruptly wished that their mother could have joined them on the quest. It was silly perhaps to wish for her, especially as they had needed to leave someone they trusted in charge of Ered Luin, but nonetheless that was what Fíli wanted. Dís would have been able to sort out both Thorin and Kíli in mere moments. They listened to _her_.

When Bofur joined him on their bedrolls some hours later it was with an air of suspicion about him.  
  
“I gave it back didn’t I,” Fíli muttered more than half asleep, and fitted his face into Bofur’s neck. Bofur squirmed a bit as Fíli’s moustache and beard tickled him, but settled down to wrap his arms around Fíli.  
  
“And I actually think I love Kíli more than you love the hat, so honestly, you got the better deal,” Fíli continued sulkily and pulled at one of the ear flaps. Bofur merely grunted and squeezed Fíli’s waist warningly in reply which made Fíli sink his teeth shallowly into the warm neck in front of them. He was in no mood to be reprimanded.   
It wasn’t like he’d hurt the hat.  
  
At the bite Bofur stiffened, and Fíli sighed and was about to offer an apology. After all it wasn’t Bofur’s fault that Kíli (and Thorin) were idiots. But then Bofur let out a breath o his own; though far more unsteadily - and suddenly Fíli found himself rolled onto his back with Bofur pinning him to their bedding.  
  
Fíli felt his eyes widen. Had he really gotten Bofur that mad? The other Dwarf looked at him with dark eyes and unsmiling mouth.   
Then said mouth was suddenly on Fíli’s own, swallowing any sound he would have made (saving Fíli from living down his shocked squawk) and Bofur’s hips made a slow grind into Fíli’s own, making him arch his spine to try and have more of the sensation.  
  
“I really don’t think you want to be starting this right now,” Bofur murmured in Fíli’s ear when they parted. “Not only are our families too close for comfort, but exhibition has never been to my taste.”  
  
Too his horror Fíli felt himself blushing, likely hot enough for Bofur to feel it as Fíli’s cheek was pressed against Bofur's.  
  
This was ridiculous! It wasn’t like he’d never been in similar situations before, just because it now involved Bofur was no reason for his blood to flock to his face.   
  
Okay, so he hadn’t actually meant to start anything when he’d nipped at Bofur’s neck, but still. It wasn’t like he didn’t welcome it. Just, well, not in the middle of camp. Good point.

“I meant no offence,” Fíli muttered and curled his fingers into Bofur’s hair.  
  
“Believe me, none taken,” Bofur snorted and Fíli shivered at the burst of hot air on his skin. “Just, I’d rather not do this with your uncle _anywhere_ nearby. I’m still expecting him to decide I’m not suited for you. And that without us skipping about six months of courting.”  
  
“Six months?” Fíli whined. Surely that wasn’t necessary. They had already declared themselves after all.

“And that’s not even counting Dwalin,” Bofur continued, ignoring Fíli’s muttered protest. “If I hurt you I’m not sure Thorin would have time to do anything about it. Mighty protective that one. I’ve seen him giving me the stink-eye.”  
  
“Dwalin does that to everyone,” Fíli complained. “And you won’t hurt me, and even if you did it wouldn’t be any of their concern.”  
  
“Just like Kíli is none of yours?” Bofur said and Fíli just _knew_ the other Dwarf's eyebrows had been raised high enough to almost disappear under the brim of his hat.

That wasn’t the same thing at all. But Fíli didn’t want to start another round of ‘ _My brother is an idiot’_.  
  
“Sleeping now,” Fíli muttered instead and pulled at Bofur’s shoulders. The older Dwarf sighed and rolled them to their sides again. Tangling their limbs together was second nature by now and Fíli soon felt himself relax and start to slip off into sleep.   
The familiar sound and feel of Bofur’s breathing lulling him into a doze even though Fíli could still feel his pulse beat just a tad too quickly from desire.  
  
-

The next morning started abysmally. Bofur had rolled away during the night and despite it being mid-summer that did not reflect in the temperature. Since they were going both north and up into the mountains that had gradually cooled the nights, so Fíli woke up shivering.  
  
Thorin and Kíli was the ones on watch, the pair looking like they hadn’t moved at all since the night before, and with the same grumpy expressions on their faces. The only thing different was the absence of Thorin’s coat. Fíli glanced towards their burglar and sure enough, the Hobbit was curled up beneath the fur-lined fabric. Normally Fíli would have traded an exasperated glance with Kíli, but it would appear that neither of them was in the mood for it. Instead he felt his temper flare and as he went by his brother and uncle he snapped:  
  
“Tell him!”  
  
He did not stop to observe their reaction as he was sure there would not be much to observe. Stone-faced and more stone-faced would likely be their expressions. Perhaps with a bit of anger on Kíli’s as he would not want Thorin to learn of his (Fíli could still only describe it as) _idiocy_.

Just then it started to rain. Brilliant. This was obviously not going to be a very pleasant day.

-

Fíli had never been more right. The rain gradually increased during the day, making their ascent up into the mountain pass both less pleasant and more hazardous as the cliffs turned slippery. When evening was almost upon them the sky suddenly split with a bolt of lightning, immediatly followed by the crash of thunder.  
  
Then came Dwalin’s shouted warning and then rock clashed with rock. And things turned infinitely worse.

When they all finally piled into the newly discovered cave Fíli was shaking with residual fear as well as cold. And on top of it all, a fair bit of anger directed at Thorin. He wanted to split himself into three so one part could grab Bofur and one part could grab Kíli and he could hold on to them until the rest of him realised they were not crushed against unforgiving rock. The final part of him yearned to go and give his uncle a swift slap over the head. And then hug him too. But slapping would need to come first.

By some miraculous turn of fate they had all managed to survive while Stone Giants battled all around them. In the end Bilbo was the one coming closest to meeting his end.  
  
Fíli’s heart had skipped a beat at the look on Thorin’s face when they all realised that Bilbo was missing from the group. And then skipped another beat when they discovered their burglar hanging off the side of the cliff and that had caused Thorin to basically throw himself off it in effort to get him to safety.   
Weirdly enough it was after everyone was safe (or as safe as they could be) that Fíli felt the slapping-urge grab hold of him.  
  
Because of course Thorin handled being scared just about as well as he handled all other emotions. With repression and jumping straight into the default state of being pissed.  
  
Fíli had looked at Thorin in shock when he told Bilbo that he _never_ should have come on their quest, but the more than miserable look on the Hobbit’s face turned shock into anger. No matter how scared Thorin had been it was no cause for him to make Bilbo think he was to blame for what had happened. Any of them could have lost their footing and it was a wonder that not all of them had done just that.

When inside the cave Fíli took a moment to cling to Bofur, to feel his pulse beat against his palm as Fíli held it pressed to his neck. Then Bofur and Bombur had to go away into a corner of the cave with Bifur to calm him down. Bifur who had not appreciated watching his cousins seemingly get crushed into a pulp was growling and shouting insults at the Giants in Khuzdul.  
  
Before he could seek Kíli out Fíli found himself being tackled by him. Fíli fisted both hands in the wet fabric of Kíli’s coat and pressed their foreheads together. For a minute they just stood together and breathed as Kíli’s fingers turned white-knuckled from their grip of Fíli’s fur-collar.

As they stood that way Dwalin came and enfolded them both into his embrace, Balin following close behind and enveloped them from the other direction. Or well, tried to. Balin didn’t exactly have the reach of his brother.  
  
“Next I’ll be losing my beard out of worry for the two of you,” Dwalin growled, causing Kíli to make a hiccupping sort of sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

“Are you both well?” Balin asked, and Fíli and Kíli both attempted to nod, but only succeeded in making their heads bang together. The pain cleared Fíli’s mind and he untangled himself from the others.  
  
“I need to have a few words with Thorin,” Fíli explained when both Kíli and Dwalin seemed unwilling to let him go. “It should not take long,” he added grimly.  
  
Dwalin grunted, but let him go, as did Kíli.  
  
“He was beside himself with worry,” Balin said quietly. “He just has difficulty showing that.”  
  
“Which is just what I’ll be having a word about,” Fíli bit out. But as he walked over to where Thorin had settled down his rage cooled and turned into decisiveness.   
  
It had never been clearer that they all could die at any moment, even the Trolls and Orcs had given them a lot more notice, and as such there was no time like the present for certain uncles to stop being so bloody pig-headed.  
  
“Are you and Kíli well,” Thorin asked as soon as Fíli came close. All right, perhaps Fíli would hug him first and punch him later.  
  
Thorin froze for a moment when Fíli knelt down and threw his arms around Thorin’s neck, but then his arms came up to wrap around Fíli in turn, squeezing hard enough that Fíli’s ribs started to protest seeing as they’d already been bruised enough for one day already. Though Fíli said nothing and just squeezed back even harder.

When they separated Fíli accidentally met Bilbo’s gaze across the cave, and the wretchedness in his eyes made Fíli’s errand all that much urgent.  
  
“We’re both fine,” he assured Thorin. “But I wish to speak to you about someone who is not.”  
  
Unsurprisingly Thorin’s gaze sought the little form of their burglar, who was now dejectedly looking down at the floor.

“If you lo-,” At this Thorin’s gaze shot back to Fíli and a frown quickly rolled in across his brow. Fíli knew how to pick his battles, so he amended his words.

“If you _like_ Bilbo, even a little - and I know you do - you _will_ apologise. “  
  
Fíli did not give Thorin any chance to respond and instead rushed on.  
  
“He thinks he's as good as worthless to us, to this quest. And he thinks _you_ think so as well. I would not be surprised if we’ll wake one morning and find that he’s gone back to the Elves.”  
   
“Perhaps that would be best,” Thorin said darkly. And Fíli felt relief that Thorin hadn’t denied  caring for Bilbo. At least that was a start.  
“He would be safe,” his uncle continued and glowered at the sand covering the cave floor as if it had questioned his honour.  
  
“Yeah, so would we all be,” Fíli countered. “Apart from maybe starving to death,” he added remembering the downsides of Elven cuisine. But this was not the time or place to go into that.  
  
“He joined us of his own free will,” Fíli continued. “You can't make him leave any more than you can get any of us to leave, and more than that he _is_ one of us. And trying to make him feel like he _isn’t_ out of some misguided attempt to protect him is doing both him and you a great disservice.”  
   
Instead of meeting Thorin’s glare Fíli again looked at Bilbo. Curled up like that he looked even smaller than normal and Fíli could see why his uncle would want to protect him, but that didn’t mean it was something he had the _right_ to do, and this certainly wasn’t the way to go about it.  
  
“Apologize,” Fíli repeated when he met Thorin’s icy blue gaze again. And this time it was Thorin who first looked away, his eyes again landing on Bilbo, and then some of the ice melted.  
   
“In the morning,” Thorin said grudgingly. But that wasn’t good enough. Not anymore.  
   
“What if he is gone in the morning?” Fíli demanded. “What if he had been lost tonight?”  
   
Now the ice was definitely gone as Thorin’s gaze was smouldering.  
  
“I said I’d do it in the morning,” he growled.  
  
 Fíli crossed his arms and tried to think of what his mother would say. Outright calling Thorin a pig-headed jackass seemed likely, but that probably wasn’t the best way to go.  
  
“Unless you want me to go and apologize for you, something that might lead to me accidentally saying something about feelings you might or might not harbour for our burglar – it would be completely accidental of course, I’m still feeling shook up from tonight’s events – then you’ll get up and do it right now.”  
  
The shocked look on Thorin’s face would have been amusing if not for the circumstances. Fíli refused to back down and to his surprise Thorin’s lips quirked.  
  
“I wish your mother could have come with us,” he said, unknowingly mirroring Fíli’s earlier thoughts.  
  
“At the moment you’re better off not having her here,” Fíli said with a pointed glance towards Bilbo. “I’m sure she would not approve either.”  
  
“And as usual she would be right,” Thorin said and clasped Fíli’s shoulder before pulling him into another embrace. As Thorin drew back he nodded once at Fíli before getting to his feet.  
  
Fíli watched as Bilbo realised Thorin was heading in his direction, and to his relief the Hobbit did not cower, instead crossing his arms and raising his chin. Then chin suddenly found itself a lot closer to his chest as Thorin’s words made Bilbo gape in shock.  
  
"I want to apologise," Thorin stated simply. “And I hope you’ll-“  
  
Then something captured Thorin’s attention and he looked down at Bilbo’s sword which Bilbo still had fastened to his side. Bilbo followed Thorin’s gaze and drew his sword up a couple of inches; the blade glowed a sharp blue.

-  
   
As Fíli fell down into the depth of the mountain he figured it was just typical for the ground to open up and swallow them whole at the exact moment Thorin had tried to admit that he had been wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter Jackson made me do it! I really wanted the fluff to continue…


	17. Escapes, Rescues and Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think we all know more or less what's going to happen here. Author is just sad this chapter can't also come with an epic soundtrack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 10.000 views! I'm happy so many have found this interesting enough for a look or even a read :)

This time when they escaped what should have been a hopeless situation it hadn’t been luck aiding them as much as the sudden reappearance of a certain Wizard. Though Fíli figured luck still played a huge part in letting them all walk away with only bruises and bumps and not actually any broken bones, and he would make sure to point out the folly of tempting that luck to Bofur as soon as they had finished their escape.  
  
Though having the Goblin King’s carcass land on them was perhaps reprimand enough for everyone.

The sight of daylight had rarely been sweeter as when they finally found their way out of the accursed tunnels beneath the Misty Mountains.

As soon as they were a safe enough distance away, even with the setting sun so low on the horizon, they stopped running and Gandalf quickly did a headcount.  
  
Once again they were down one Hobbit, but this time he was not to be immediatly found. Fíli still caught himself looking around, but stopped as he realised it was of little use.  
  
He could not remember seeing Bilbo at all during their escape and it shamed him to know he’d not realised it before – however occupied he’d been at the time what with the fleeing and the fighting. He _should_ have checked Bilbo was with them, that he hadn’t was inexcusable.  
  
If Fíli was beating himself up that was nothing compared to what Thorin appeared to be doing. He paced like a caged animal and actually _snarled_ at Dwalin when the latter dropped an ill-thought out comment about Bilbo being lost, even though Dwalin clearly was worried as well. After all it wasn’t just once that Dwalin had made sure their burglar did not fall off a cliff, and Fíli did not think all of that was just for Thorin’s benefit.  
  
“We can’t go back,” Balin said softly as the others squabbled about whose fault it was that Bilbo was not with them. The old Dwarf lightly touched Thorin’s arm. “Especially not as night is rapidly closing in on us.”  
  
Fíli’s heart ached and he unconsciously took a step closer to Kíli. The look Balin's words brought out in Thorin’s eyes was just as bad as the one his mother had worn for _years_ after their father had died.

Then the unbelievable happened.  
  
“No need, I’m right here,” Bilbo said as he stepped out from behind a tree.

It was quite possible that Thorin’s knees almost gave way. When Fíli could take his eyes off of Bilbo he naturally looked for his uncle and saw him leaning quite heavily on Orcrist, which he had pushed into the ground in front of him. Dwalin hovered close by, clearly torn between relief and… was that _suspicion_?

“Bilbo,” Kíli laughed joyfully. “We’d given you up!”  
  
“How on earth did you get past the Goblins,” Fíli asked, looking Bilbo over for any obvious injuries, but their Hobbit seemed remarkably fine.  
  
“How, indeed?” Dwalin growled, suspicion clearly having won out. “Nori here says you slipped away right at the beginning, just where did you go?”  
  
Thorin clamped a restraining hand on Dwalin’s shoulder as the latter took step towards Bilbo but Dwalin shrugged him off.  
  
“I’m sorry, Thorin,” Dwalin said and he did look very sorry indeed. “But he clearly did not come the same way we took; we didn’t leave much of it behind. And if we barely made it out of there I don’t see how he could have done so by _himself_. “  
  
“Are you claiming that our burglar is in cohorts with the Goblins,” Kíli demanded, eyes blazing and Fíli startled because he hadn’t yet made that association for himself.  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gandalf puffed. “And what does it matter _how_ he is back with us when we should be glad that he is back at all.”  
  
Dwalin folded his arms across his chest and frowned at Gandalf.  
  
“It matters because we can’t afford it not to.”  
  
Bilbo, who had stood frozen ever since Dwalin’s question now seemed to rally.  
  
“Now wait a minute,” he protested. “I’m certainly not in league with those, those horrible beings. One of them actually bit me!” Bilbo added and pulled at his collar. This casued Thorin to spring into action.  
  
“You are injured,” Thorin declared as he swept forward. “Oín, get up here!” Bilbo flinched a little at the bellow, but did not resist when Thorin so very gently took his hand and pulled it away from his collar.  
  
“I’m afraid most of my supplies were lost when we fell,” Oín said, twisting his hands worriedly. Though they were steady enough when he pulled Bilbo’s shirt aside to have a look at the bite.  
“That’s not so bad,” he said relieved as he drew back. “Needs cleaning of course, but it’s very shallow.”

Of course Fíli’s uncle wasn’t satisfied with just _hearing_ that and Bilbo flushed a little as his shirt was once again pulled to the side so Thorin could see for himself, the Dwarf ignoring Oín’s mutters as he was shoved aside.  
  
When Thorin stroked two fingers down the unmarked skin of Bilbo’s throat the Hobbit turned redder still but he did not shrink back or put a stop to it, and instead he shuffled a little closer to Thorin.

Before Thorin could do something to cause Kíli to cover his eyes a low howl broke the silence of the mountainside. And yet again they were forced to run from an Orc pack. Only this time, there wasn’t a Wizard and his rabbits to lead them away, no Elves around to shoot them down, and no passages to escape into.  
  
Fíli exchanged a look with Kíli and nodded towards Bilbo. This time they would not let him alone to fend for himself. Thorin saw their intent and inclined his head in thanks.  
  
And so the brothers ran, making sure Bilbo was always ahead of them.

This turned out to be a lousy plan when a Warg suddenly leaped in front of Bilbo.  
  
Fíli was just pulling his blade out of the throat of another one of the beasts and his eyes widened in horror when he saw the Warg charge at Bilbo. But once again their Hobbit surprised them, quick as anything he had his sword out and the Warg impaled itself on it, head first.  
  
Of course _then_ Bilbo froze and Fíli had to push him along to get him moving again, but that was much better than having him eaten.  
  
“My sword,” Bilbo protested, and Fíli quickly drew it out of the Warg’s skull and handed it to their burglar.  
  
“Up into the trees!” Gandalf called. “All of you. Bilbo, climb!”  
  
Fíli was prepared to help Bilbo up into the tree, but this turned out to not to be neede as the Hobbit scrambled up with an admirable speed.  
  
Soon enough the ground below was crawling with Wargs, some of them carrying Orcs on their backs. And then _he_ showed up.

“Azog.” The name wasn’t as much said as it was wrenched out of Thorin’s chest. “It cannot be.”  
  
But it was. There was no mistaking that pale monstrosity for any other then the same Orc who had killed Thráin. The Wargs attacked and Fíli quickly hauled Bilbo up a little higher into the tree. It probably was meaningless, but it at least made him feel better.  
  
As the trees fell they jumped to the next, until there were no more trees to seek refuge in.

Gandalf’s magic turned pine cones into weapons and that held off their enemies for a while, but pine cones helped little as their final tree started to give way.  
  
As it fell Fíli found himself just barely managing to cling to one of the branches, feeling the drop all too clearly claw at his feet. The creaky sound coming from the branch he was holding wasn’t the least bit comforting either. Kíli he saw was in a similar dangling position, but at least Bilbo and Thorin had fared better. Bofur he could not see, but the Dwarf answered when Fíli desperately shouted for him. He hoped the rest of the company had been similarly blessed.  
  
Fíli missed seeing his uncle leave the tree as he was struggling to climb into a safer position, but when he heard Balin and Dwalin cry out he snapped his head up just in time to see Thorin land flat on the ground. Fear and anger made him careless and he slipped down yet again.  
  
Cursing Fíli could only begin to pull himself to safety once more, hoping it would not be too late.  
  
And, it wasn’t too late, thanks to Bilbo. At least Fíli dearly hoped that was the truth.  
  
Under normal circumstances Fíli was sure that being high, _high_ up in the air, on the back of an Eagle would have been absolutely terrifying, and while he made sure his grip on the feathers was tight, all he could think about was Thorin and the others. Was he even alive? Was Bofur safe?  
  
The eagles carried them throughout the night, and were it not for Kíli’s presence on the Eagle Fíli was sure he would have gone insane in the darkness. They did not talk because neither of them had the words for it, but just knowing that his brother was with him and safe helped calm Fíli’s fears.  
  
At the first light of dawn Fíli’s eyes swept over the Eagles. To his relief his gaze first fell on the one carrying Bofur and Bifur, and then he saw-  
  
“Thorin!” Fíli cried out. There was no answer, and his uncle did not seem to be conscious. Please let him be just unconscious. 

After a too long period of time the Eagles finally touched ground. When Fíli slid down from the one who had been carrying him and Kíli Thorin was to his joy stirring as he lay on the ground. Kíli and Dwalin hurried to aid him when he began to rise and Fíli found himself hovering over the three of them.

Then Thorin started scolding Bilbo for _saving his life_ and Fíli was gobsmacked.  
  
Okay, he was beyond happy his uncle was well enough to be his usual self, but had Thorin really forgotten the talk they’d had only the night before (it might _feel_ like an Age had passed, but that was no excuse).  Had he been hit on the head one time too many had just decided that this seemed to be a good place to pick up from? He should be apologizing for Durin’s sake. Not- _Oh._  
  
So that _was_ an apology in the world of Thorin Oakenshield. Well. Good thing he didn’t do them very often. Bilbo seemed happy enough though, clinging to Thorin like Thorin was an Eagle and letting go meant falling to his death. And Thorin was _smiling_.  
  
Kíli shot Fíli a self-satisfied look, like he’d been the one orchestrating their embrace. Lucky for him Fíli was too happy himself to care.  
  
“I am sorry I ever doubted you,” Thorin said to Bilbo when they parted, face and tone serious again.  
  
“No I’m- I would have doubted me too,” Bilbo said and shook his head. “I’m not a hero. Or a warrior.” The hobbit threw a glance in Gandalf’s direction. “Or even a burglar.”  
  
And just like that Thorin was forgiven. Fíli had the feeling that Bilbo’s heart might just be a little too big where his uncle was concerned, but that would be a worry for another day entirely. A day after Fíli had spent a week sleeping, preferably in a bed, next to Bofur.  
  
Bilbo and Thorin had not separated much after their embrace had ended. Just like when they had finished Bilbo’s first (and so far only) practice with his sword the two stood very close together with eyes only for each other. Thorin’s hands were twitching like they want to go back to holding Bilbo. But just as Fíli believed they would finally act on their feelings Thorin’s eyes suddenly focused on something behind Bilbo.  
  
This time it was not on a glowing sword, but it was still quite easy to understand Thorin’s distraction because what had captured his gaze was _Erebor_.  
  
If he had not seen it before his very eyes Fíli could not have believed the Eagles could have carried them so far so quickly. The forest streching out before them had to be Mirkwood, which meant that their journey was more than half-way finished.  
  
Fíli came back to himself just as Bilbo said something about the worst being behind them. At those words Fíli felt a chill go down his spine. He knew he should have taken a minute somewhere to tell the others to for the _love of stone_ quit tempting fate like that. Perhaps Bilbo would have been more cautious if a dead Goblin king had landed on his head as well. As it were Fíli could only hope that the luck they'd had so far would not desert them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda thought this fic would have ended by now, but while Fíli and Bofur were lovely enough to stop being idiots fairly quickly the process seems to be a bit slower for certain others.
> 
> Okay, head-canon time. Let me explain (rant about) the changes I made.
> 
> I figure Thorin is all “He is long gone, yada yada, won’t be seeing our hobbit again” in the film because he knew of Bilbo’s talk with Bofur and figured Bilbo’s reaction to his shout had been to get out of the cave before the floor caved in. (That kinda would have been the sensible thing after all.)
> 
> When Nori said that he’d seen him slip away Thorin misunderstood and took that to mean pre-landing inside the caves. *That* makes so much more sense to me than Thorin thinking Bilbo would manage to sneak his way to freedom from *inside* the mountain. He’s got enough disbelief going on when Bilbo appears and that’s a sure sign that *did* get past the Goblins, you know? And this is also why he’s asking why Bilbo came *back*, not how he got away like the rest of them.
> 
> Plus, Thorin wanted to believe that Bilbo got away (badly) because the other alternative would be that Bilbo was still stuck inside that mountain. And it would likely mean the death of all of them to try and search for him and Thorin could not sacrifice so many lives for one (*cough* not –again-, because honestly, the bit with the trolls clearly was a crap tactical decision influenced by feelings. Sorry Bilbo, you know I love you!) and Thorin’s little heart clearly can’t handle the strain of too much emotions at once (Love you too Thorin!).
> 
> But in this story he knows Bilbo went down with the rest of them and acts accordingly. Ie. snarling at Dwalin.
> 
> Also, Thorin leaning on his sword, totally happened in the movie! Also2. “Our hobbit”, Thorin? Is that so? ;)


	18. What Hath Night To Do With Sleep?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in nothing really happens. Um, sorry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I stole the title from John Milton.

Despite that the sun was now well over the horizon Fíli had rarely felt more ready for a bed. However there was a few problems with that. The biggest the very fact that they didn’t have any beds. That wasn’t new, but now they didn’t even have their bedrolls. They also didn’t have much of anything else (except for their weapons) which meant that everyone was pretty hungry, thirsty, filthy and on the whole very uncomfortable. Not surprising really, after a day first walking in a complete down pour, followed by fighting and running from Goblins, followed by fighting and running from Orcs, followed by a night spent on the back of an Eagle not knowing if your uncle was alive or dead… (okay that might have only been Fíli and Kíli) But still.

Bilbo and Thorin was currently arguing about who of them was the most injured (each voting for the other one), a discussion Thorin would clearly lose if the stiff way he moved was any indication. So far he’d been his usual easy-going self and was just in the process of making Bilbo sit down on a rock so that Oín could have another look at bite mark on the Hobbit’s neck, as well as look for newer injuries.  
  
“You have _blood_ on your _face_!” Bilbo protested as Thorin gently pushed at his shoulders. “And yes, it looks to be your own. You’ve been unconscious for _hours_. You were _mauled_ by a _Warg_!”

“And I’ve already had a Wizard heal me,” Thorin said firmly. “I’m fine.”  
  
Fíli and Kíli both snorted, and then Fíli most assuredly did not go hide behind Bofur at his uncle’s glare. He had already been planning to join Bofur, nothing strange about a Dwarf wanting to be closer to his- his… Well, his _intended_.  
  
For all that their courtship had been a bit (or perhaps more than a bit) out of the ordinary they had gone past the actual courting part, made their feelings clear, and Fíli certainly hoped he’d made his _intentions_ clear when he’d told Bofur that he wanted to give him _everything_.  
  
82 was perhaps a bit young to get married, but if Thorin would have any complaints then Fíli could just point out that it was better than being 300 - which was the age Thorin was likely to be when he’d finally managed to _kiss_ Bilbo. Except… Bilbo would probably not live another hundred years. Sad and inconvenient at the same time.  
  
There had to be a way to point out this simple fact without accidentally spilling the beans about how old (erm, or young) Bilbo actually was, and any day now Fíli was going to figure it out.  
  
Fíli sighed and slipped his arms around Bofur, humming contentedly as Bofur leaned back into him.  
  
This was not going to be that day though.  
  
The Hobbit in question was now staring sullenly up at the hovering Thorin, and Oín fluttered (okay, maybe not fluttered, because Oín was not in any way shape or form similar to a butterfly) around them both.  
  
If they kept it up long enough then perhaps one of them would clue in to _why_ they were so worried about each other and do something about it. Or Oín would just tire of them and slap them around the head until they clued in.

“Still think Bilbo is out to get us?” Kíli said more than a tad smugly to Dwalin. “This could just be a very elaborate plot of his I guess.”  
  
“I still want to know how he got past the Goblins,” Dwalin rumbled. “But I can admit that I was likely in the wrong earlier.”

“Is anyone else injured?” Thorin asked as he turned to the rest of the company.  
  
“ _I’m_ not injured,” Bilbo grumbled.  
  
Again it would seem as they had been very fortunate indeed for no one was hurt beyond sore muscles and the occasional bruise. Fíli suspected himself to have a few more bruises than he’d let on to Thorin and Oín, but while his sides ached it was not in the way of broken, or even cracked, ribs. He would likely just turn all sorts of colours for a few weeks.

Just when Fíli felt he’d fall asleep standing (Bofur’s solid warmth pressed against his chest was so very _very_ comfortable) Gandalf suggested that they’d do well to get of the Carrock. _Carrock_?  
Fíli didn’t even know what that meant. Big stony thing Eagles dropped you off on after rescuing you? Pile of rocks where your uncle did not die? Stupid thing with no beds?

The path down from the hill of stone was surprisingly easy to navigate as big steps had been carved into the rock. Not that this stopped Thorin from looking at Bilbo’s descent as if the Hobbit once more dangled of the side of a cliff. At the foot of the steps there was a small cave and just a bit away there was a fairly large river Fíli vaguely remembered seeing from the air. They’d have to cross it to get to Mirkwood, but fortunately there seemed to be a ford just at the foot of the _Carrock_ as well. Plenty of big flat stones to take them across without getting wet. Not that getting wet sounded like a horrible idea at the moment.

As the last of the company made their way onto the grass covered ground Bilbo’s stomach let out what could only be described as a roar. The Hobbit looked mortified, Thorin looked rather shocked, and Gandalf looked amused.  
  
“Yes, quite,” The Wizard said with a benevolent smile. “There is a safe place not far from here where you might rest and gather your strength once again before continuing, but perhaps it’ll do all of us well to halt briefly here first.”

“I can’t help but notice how you do not include yourself in the first part of that plan,” Thorin said and crossed his arms as he looked at Gandalf.  
  
“I always meant to see you all safely over the mountains,” Gandalf said, “But I’m afraid I can’t stay with you for much longer. There is pressing business I need to attend to.”

“More pressing than our quest?” Dwalin rumbled.  
  
“This is not my adventure,” Gandalf said and sounded as close to apologetic as the Wizard ever got.  
  
There’s a bit of an argument that never actually escalated into a fight as everyone was too tired and too hungry to want to be angry on top of it.

Kíli, Dori and Nori slunk away to try and find something edible to kill. Bilbo grabbed Bofur and Ori and went away to try and find something edible that _didn’t_ need to be killed. The remainders of the company just stood around stupidly until Thorin and Dwalin both sighed at the same time before they went to look for something to feed to a fire. This pushed the rest of the Dwarfs into action as well, checking their pockets and persons for useful items.  
  
Bombur’s flint and steel had survived their hardships and there was plenty of kindling around to get a small fire started in wait for Thorin and Dwalin to return with better fuel.

Fíli had almost fallen asleep again when the different parties began to return to their make-shift camp. He had just sat down for a moment and then he had somehow ended up on his back, he knew this because the sky seemed to be directly before his eyes all of a sudden. It was a pretty sky. Very blue. Then the sky was blotted out by Bofur’s head, but Fíli considered that a more than fair exchange.  
  
Bofur tutted playfully at him.  
“Falling asleep while we’re providing for the rest of you, eh? Come on, Bilbo claims we’ve found something fit for consumption, but you wouldn’t know it from the look on Ori’s face.”  
  
Fíli let himself be pulled to his feet, feeling only half awake, if that. Whatever Bilbo had found it seemed to be edible because Fíli had vague memories of putting something in his mouth and swallowing, and there was some sort of meat as well, but he wouldn’t have bet any coin on the exact nature of it. When some of it almost fell out due to his yawning Bofur once again dragged him to his feet and took him to something at least _resembling_ a bed, it looked to be both their cloaks on top of a decently sized pile of sweet smelling grass.  
  
“When did you-“ Fíli began but was cut off by another jaw breaking yawn.  
  
“Was Bifur actually, sometimes he can get particular about where me and Bombur sleeps. Every so often I swear he still thinks us no more than twenty and in need of coddling. I’d blame the axe but he’s always been that way.”  
  
“I like Bifur,” Fíli murmured as he flopped face-down onto the close-enough-to-a-bed. “Not as much as I like you though,” he added when Bofur curled up beside him.  
  
“I’m sure my cousin and I are both thankful for that,” Bofur said sounding amused.  
  
“Are Kíli and Thorin okay?” Fíli asked and tried to turn around. His brain had just translated cousin into family into Fíli’s family and now he needed to know if they were safe before he could let himself fall asleep.  
  
“They’re fine. Thorin was trying to make Bilbo eat more rabbit-" Ah, so it had been _rabbit_. "And Kíli had teamed up with Dori to try and make Ori eat some of the green things Bilbo helped us find. And Dwalin was trying to make your uncle and brother actually eat more themselves while Balin tried the same for Dwalin."  
  
Bofur fell silent for a while.  
  
"You know, on second thought, then Bifur perhaps isn't so bad to have as family. I'm feeling particularly fond of Bombur as well."  
  
"Too late," Fíli murmured. "You're stuck with me so you're stuck with them, no matter how crazy."  
  
Fíli fell asleep to Bofur's laughter rumbling against his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I'm blaming this on just being at the start of chapter 7 if we go by the actual novel. Plenty of time to still get certain thick-headed Durins to take action. Fíli can get a lie down in the meantime. Poor thing.


	19. Down To The River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in there's bathing again, as well as Hobbit snuggles, and Fíli has a talk with his brother about when a Dwarf loves a Dwarf very much (because it's *not* Gandalf, dammit) said Dwarf should bloody well say something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Kíli & Mr. Mystery and Bilbo &Thorin ever get their act together would you want to read interludes from their POV or do you want me to stick to just Fíli's?

Judging by the sun it was not yet noon, but as Fíli stretched where he lay on a now much flatter bed of grass he felt as refreshed as if he’d slept for far longer. Too be fair he had probably fallen asleep long before everyone else, so he did have the advantage of an early start.  
  
Bofur seemed to still be asleep and Fíli took a moment to gently brush some grass away from the other Dwarf’s hat and hair. Bofur stirred a little at the touch, but did not wake.  
  
Fíli rose to his feet and winced a little as the move pulled at muscles that did not seem to be quite as refreshed as Fíli felt.  
  
As he wandered back into the middle of the camp Fíli noticed to his surprise that everyone else seemed to be sleeping still. Except for Gandalf who nodded at him as he went to poke at the fire. Fíli would have wished him a good morning, but Bilbo had told him why that wasn’t such a good idea, and besides, it wasn’t exactly morning any more.

With everyone sleeping it was very quiet in the camp. Fíli could hear the low splashing sounds coming from the river, as well as bird song from the trees, but apart from that - and the occasional snore, things were very silent. Which is why it was lucky Fíli didn’t actually shout in surprise when he saw his uncle and Bilbo, because it was sure to have woken _everyone_ , and inside the concept of everyone was Fíli's uncle and the Hobbit he was cuddling with.  
  
Thorin and Bilbo was sleeping curled up together, both beneath Thorin’s cloak and close enough that Thorin’s dark hair was tangled together with Bilbo’s lighter curls. And if that wasn’t surprising _enough_ it turned out that Bilbo _wasn’t_ the little spoon. Or well, he was the _smaller_ spoon, but he was the one holding Thorin and not the other way around. At least Bilbo was trying to hold Thorin, but from what Fíli could the Hobbit’s arms was a tad too short to reach around the bulk of Thorin’s chest. Not that Fíli’s uncle seemed to mind the attempt, his usually frowny forehead was completely smooth and there was even a hint of a smile hidden at the corner of his otherwise relaxed mouth.  
  
“What _happened_ last night,” Fíli whispered to Gandalf. What had he missed by going to sleep so early?  
  
“Oh, nothing much my dear boy,” Gandalf replied and puffed out one of those bloody birds -a stork - again with the smoke from his pipe. “They both just fell asleep at the same time, and as they were sitting together it seemed natural to let them remain that way while sleeping.”

Huh. Sneaky old Wizard. Good for him.  
  
But what would be good for Fíli was to be somewhere else before those two woke up in case their _sleeping_ together would actually lead to some revelations about them actually _sleeping_ together. Not that they would have a go at it in the middle of camp, but still. Best not take _any_ chances.  
  
Since he was such a good brother Fíli then looked for Kíli so that he could warn his brother about the potentially imminent Uncle-Hobbit snogging. But there was no Kíli to be found.  
  
“If you are looking for your brother he is down by the river,” Gandalf said.  
  
Good to know Kíli would not do _him_ any favours… The next time Fíli would leave him to watch as Thorin did… _something_ , to their burglar. Muttering a bit, though mostly just for the sake of it as Fíli found it hard to be angry at Kíli when they both had so narrowly survived the events of the last days, Fíli went down to the river to look for his misplaced brother.  
  
Kíli wasn’t bathing, instead he sat on a stone and gazed at the merrily jumping water. The current seemed to be pretty strong, but the water was shallow enough that it should be safe enough to get rid of the filth that had accumulated since their visit to the hot springs. As well as the bits of Goblin and Orc that had accumulated just over the last day.

“Why aren’t you in the water,” Fíli asked as he got closer to Kíli. “I expect you smell about the same as I do; old boots with a strong hint of absolutely disgusting.”

“I’m thinking,” Kíli replied without looking at Fíli.  
  
“I see why that might take up a lot of your concentration,” Fíli teased in an attempt to lighten his brother’s mood. “But surely getting wet does not require very much of your focus to accomplish. Even sheep manage it once in a while, at least when it rains.”  
  
When there was no witty replied Fíli sighed and joined his brother on rock which turned out to be pleasantly warm from the sun shining down on it.  
  
“Yes. You should tell him that you love him,” Fíli said instead and bumped his shoulder into Kíli’s.

“That was not what I was thinking,” Kíli protested.  
  
“But you were thinking of him, weren’t you,” Fíli countered.  
Kíli’s sullen silence was as good as an actually yes. “I thought so,” Fíli said and leaned back on the rock.  
  
“I just don’t see what use it’d be to tell him when I already know-“ Kíli’s voice trailed off.  
  
“But how can you know since you’ve not really made your intentions clear?” Fíli argued. “What if he thought you were just looking for a tumble and nothing more? That’s what made Bofur turn _me_ down at first after all.”  
  
Kíli did not say anything and Fíli sighed again.  
  
“It’s not just that you should tell him, brother,” he said more gently. “You _need_ to tell him. I wish you’d heard what I said to uncle in the cave before we fell into the Goblin trap. We have been very lucky so far, but none of us know how long it’s going to last. We could have died a dozen and more times just last night. Whoever it is that you love I’m sure he is not going to take offence, and if something should happen-“  
  
Here Kíli made a small unhappy noise.  
  
“If something should happen, would you not have him know that he was loved?”  
  
Kíli was silent for almost a minute and Fíli had almost decided to go for a swim when his brother spoke again.  
  
“What if I’m afraid?” Kíli still did not meet Fíli’s gaze, and continued to stare out at the water. “What if I rather have this small chance that he might _not_ say no - and that I’ve misunderstood his actions so far. What if I’d rather have that, then the knowledge that it truly is hopeless.”  
  
Now it was Fíli’s turn to be silent for a while.  
  
“I was talking to Dwalin,” he finally said. “About what does not matter-“ especially since it actually was about Kíli... “-and he basically said that if we’re not afraid of scary things it just means we’re stupid.”  
  
Kíli snorted.  
  
“And you know what Thorin said when he was showing Bilbo how to use that needle of his - not that I'm not thrilled that he has got it after last night,” Fíli continued. “And might I add I’m very thankful our Burglar got that lesson from Thorin as I think he’d not have fared even half has well last night if he hadn’t. At any rate, Uncle said fear is no longer useful when you let it control you instead of the other way around.”  
  
“So you think I’m a coward,” Kíli said and met Fíli’s eyes for the first time. His brother's eyes was cloudy with hurt and Fíli hurridly slung his arm around Kíli’s shoulder to pull their heads together. 

“I think you’re _not_ one ,” Fíli said. “Which is why I know you will tell him eventually. I just don’t want it to be too late.”

They sat pressed together for a moment or two more before Fíli loosened his grip and moved back.  
  
“Speaking of hopeless and not so hopeless cases,” Fíli smiled. “I assume you saw what I resident burglar was up to this morning.”  
  
“Why do you think I’m here,” Kíli said, and to Fíli’s relief there was now a small smile on his brother’s lips. “Apart from brooding I mean,” Kíli continued and rolled his eyes.  
  
“I said nothing of the sort,” Fíli protested, a smile lurking around his own mouth.  
  
“I do hope Thorin doesn’t roll over and accidentally crush Bilbo,” Kíli mused. “Uncle has to be at least half again as wide and twice as heavy as our Hobbit.”  
  
“Perhaps a flat burglar will be an advantage," Fíli suggested. "If we can’t find the door that holds the lock to our key we _might_ be able to just slide Bilbo inside Erebor if we find a slit or a crack somewhere.”  
  
“If we can stop Ori from using him as paper first,” Kíli laughed. “He too lost most of his supplies when we fell, and he nagged by ear off about it last night. Thankfully he manged to keep all the finished pages, or else I think we'd be going back into the Misty Montains after all.”  
  
“So our adventures from now on might not be passed on to the next generations?” Fíli pretended to be distraught. “But how will people ever learn the whole story about my bravery, my sharp with, and let’s not forget my dashing good looks.”

“It’s a shame indeed,” Kíli said drily and rolled his eyes. “Now they will be stuck with just reading the bits about how you failed at courting Bofur again and again.”

“I did not fail!” Fíli objected. “I obviously did a brilliant job. And surely Ori hasn’t written anything about that anyway.”  
  
Kíli looked smug. Too smug. Dammit. But at least a smug brother was a non-brooding brother, so Fíli admitted defeat and instead got off the rock.  
  
“On that note I’m going to wash up before our scribe is awake to avoid any chance of a story about how my bits froze and fell off in what is sure to be very cold water.”  
  
“It’s not that cold,” Kíli said and jumped off the rock. “I had a feel earlier and it’s got to be shallow a long way upstream as well because I think the sun’s managed to warm it a bit.”  
  
“Either way I’m not taking any chances with Ori’s pen,” Fíli said and began to undress. “And if I were you I’d not wait around either.”  
  
The water _was_ cold, but the sun was very warm and after a while it felt almost refreshing. The river was remarkably clear and the bottom was covered in smooth pebbles and flat rocks. By the time Bofur and Bombur, along with Balin and Dwalin, joined them by the riverside both Fíli and Kíli had finished washing themselves and was now washing their clothes, or at least the bits of them that had the most Orc blood and Goblin on them.

“Is that really wise,” Balin called as he caught sight of what they were doing. “I don’t expect we’ll stay long enough for your clothes to dry.”

“I’d rather be wet than smell like Goblin a moment longer,” Kíli called back.  
  
“The sun is warm enough for us to dry quickly,” Fíli added. “And we’re just about done anyway, so there might be time.”

Fíli could not help but notice that Bofur’s gaze seemed to have trouble remaining on his face and now it was Fíli’s turn to smile smugly. He did _so_ have dashing good looks. Even if his braids were a mess at the moment. Then again, compared to Kíli's wild hair they might just look proper after all.

“Not smelling like a Goblin sounds like a good idea,” Bofur said and began to get undressed. “And you better bathe as well,” he added and looked at his brother and Dwalin and Balin. “If we didn’t all smell just as bad I think none of us would stand to be around each other, so this will only work if everyone washes away the worst of it.”  
  
Dwalin shrugged and began unfastening his clothes. Bombur and Balin looked more dubious.  
  
“It’s not _that_ cold,” Fíli said as he and Kíli made their way back onto the rocky ground again. “Besides, we all got our share of cuts and scrapes and washing away the dirt will stop Oín from yelling at you later.”  
  
Just then Dwalin removed his shirt and revealed a fairly nasty looking wound on the back of his right shoulder.  
  
“He _is_ going to yell at you regardless though,” Fíli told Dwalin and dropped his sodden clothes on the sun warmed rocks. “Why didn’t you say anything last night?”  
  
“It had already stopped bleeding,” Dwalin said casually and rotated his shoulder. He then tried to look down his own back. “Besides it doesn’t seem to be very deep.”

Kíli muttered something unpleasant sounding and dumped his clothes on the ground as well. His words were too low for Fíli make much sense out of them, but the blond Dwarf would bet that it was not intended as a compliment to Dwalin's care for his own well-being.  
  
Kíli hastily spread his clothes out to dry and then went to Dwalin’s side.  
  
“You’ll need help washing that,” he said and crossed his arms. “And if you say that you don’t I will get Oín so that _he_ can help you. And he'll probably smear you full of that horrible smelly stuff he's invented. _Ointment_ he calls it.”

Naked and with his hair completely unbound and dripping water Kíli looked about as threatening as a wet cat, and Dwalin merely grunted and finished undressing.

Kíli apparently took it as acceptance because he shadowed Dwalin as the larger Dwarf went out in the river.

Bofur, naked except for his hat, had now come to stand next to Fíli who was in the process of laying his own clothes out to dry. He trusted his brother to make sure Dwalin's shoulder wasn't infected. When he straightened again Fíli felt careful fingers drag over the parts of him that had started to bruise a deep purple.  
  
“I’m fine,” Fíli said and smiled at Bofur’s concerned expression. “I promise. But if you keep touching me while we’re both naked I’m going to do something that’ll make Kíli close his eyes and then he won’t be able to help Dwalin, which will lead to Dwalin’s arm rotting and falling off. And without him we might just all die horribly as he is one of our best fighters. And I’d rather not have that on my consciousness.”

“No, wouldn’t want that,” Bofur smiled back, but before he pulled back he stole a kiss. Then he pulled off his hat and put it on Fíli’s head. Fíli’s resulting grin was probably even more stupid than Dwalin not taking proper care of his wounds, but who cared. Bofur trusted him with the _hat_. As Bofur went into the water Fíli tried to get his mouth under control, but he still suspected that the corners of his mouth was a bit too close to his ears even so.  
  
“Was Uncle and Bilbo awake when you came here,” Fíli asked Bombur who was still looking a bit sceptically at the water. Balin had acquiesced and was now in the river, peering and prodding at Dwalin’s shoulder together with Kíli.    
  
“No, but everyone else were, so they’ll be joining us shortly I expect.”  
  
“They really weren’t awake yet?” Fíli asked, grin fading. Was Thorin more injured then he had given light of, just like Dwalin? Why else would he sleep this long?  
  
“Weeelll,” Bombur said. “Nori thought they both were just pretending to be asleep as to not make things _awkward_. Or maybe just until they’d figured out a good way to detangle themselves without waking the other.”

“We’ll reach Erebor just in time for Durin’s day next year then,” Fíli said and relaxed.  
Due to his rather shady profession Nori was pretty talented in knowing when people lied, even if they only did so with their bodies. “Maybe I ought to give them a reason to get up. I wouldn’t mind getting to this friend of Gandalf’s before the end of the day.”  
  
“What are you going to do?” Bombur asked.  
  
“If they’re not up when my clothes are dry enough to be worn again I’m betting they’d be up in no time if we all started screaming.”  
  
“Screaming?” Bombur said and raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Maybe we tried to scare off a bear?" Fíli said and smiled innocently. "There’s got to be bears around here somewhere what with the caves and the mountains and the forest. And I even think I saw some fish in the river."  
  
Later that day, or rather that _night_ , Fíli would learn that bears could be found even in places where you least expected them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was more fun to read than last chapter. Seriously, I tried to make something happen last time too, but Fíli just kept going to sleep. It went a bit like this:
> 
> Me: Fíli why don’t you go stand with Bofur. Hug him a bit. Yes, like that. You both almost died you know, like a billion times. Maybe you want to- Why are you falling asleep!?
> 
> Me:Okay, that didn’t work and now Bofur has run off to hunt for wild vegetables. Crap. No sneaking off into the forest for a round of “thank Mahal we’re alive”-sex for you then. Oh well, but you know, why don’t you go talk to Balin about your brother. Balin sees a lot of things you know, perhaps he can help you with Kíli?
> 
> Fíli: Grass, soft. Niiiiice grass. *sits down* 
> 
> Me: Get back up!
> 
> Fíli: *Is suddenly lying down*
> 
> Me: Crap…
> 
> Me: Okay, Bofur is at least back now, and the food isn’t quite ready yet, perhaps you can-
> 
> Fíli: zzzzzzzz
> 
> Me: Come on, now you’re awake. I can see you eating, you have to be awake. Could you at least look at Kíli a bit? The readers are going to go crazy if we don’t get any progress with him and you-don’t-know-who soon. Are there any clues in what he’s doing now?
> 
> Fíli: *leans against Bofur and chews with his mouth open, eyes closed* 
> 
> Me: Dammit.
> 
> Me: Bofur, why are you dragging him away from the mystery that is Kíli… Oh, I see. Okay, this could work. You have something vaguely similar to a bed, you’re a bit away from the rest of the company who are all very busy, at least you could like kiss and snuggle for a bit. At least.
> 
> Fíli: Mmmmm, bed. 
> 
> Me: Yes, bed!
> 
> Fíli: Zzzzzzzz. Zzzzzzzz. Zzzzzzzzz.
> 
> Me: Curse you, Dwarf!


	20. Interlude - Be Still My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in Bilbo and Thorin are hopeless but totally deserving of one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, a tiny bit of an interlude. Warning, it's silly.  
> Real chapter coming tomorrow hopefully. With progress ;)  
> We’re getting very close to revealing who Kíli is in love with, just so you know.

Bilbo’s first thought as his fuzzy mind slowly swum upwards into reality was that he was actually just switching one dream for another. Everything around him smelled like Thorin ( and Goblin, which wasn’t nearly as nice), and it felt like Thorin’s hard body was pressed all along his front and Bilbo would _swear_ his arms was wrapped around a chest that was remarkably similar to Thorin’s as well. Not to mention that the dark locks intermingled with silver strands that hung directly in front of Bilbo’s eyes looked remarkably familiar as well. 

This wasn’t good, well it was _good_ -Bilbo didn’t know when he last had felt this warm and comfortable, but this wasn’t going to _end_ well. Thorin might have hugged him, might not actually consider him useless, might even be glad he was alive, but Bilbo was pretty sure that if there was a way to take their relationship another step to become an actual _relationship_ then this _wasn’t_ it. This was skipping about twenty steps. How had this even happened?  
  
The last thing Bilbo could remember _was_ sitting next to Thorin by the fire, but even to his sleep fuddled mine there was quite a difference between that and trying to melt into Thorin. Of course, it wasn’t very farfetched that his sleeping-self had completely forgotten all the reasons why glomming onto Thorin wasn’t the brightest idea, and he could probably consider himself lucky that Thorin’s reflexes hadn’t kicked in as he'd wormed his beneath Thorin's coat or Bilbo likely would have an Orcrist shape hole somewhere on his body.  
  
Pulling in a shaky breath Bilbo tried to make his arms let go of Thorin. It wasn’t the easiest thing the Hobbit had ever attempted, but he bravely told his arms to quit it, to let go, and just when he’d started to slowly, so very slowly pull his arms back Thorin suddenly stirred.  
  
Bilbo froze. Then he made himself relax because if Thorin was waking up then Bilbo most _definitely_ would pretend to be asleep until Thorin pushed him away and yelled at him for… well, on general principle. Cuddling with a king just wasn’t something you just _did_ after all. What must the rest of the company think about him...  
  
Thankfully it seemed that Thorin wasn’t really waking up just yet, but Bilbo decided to wait a while before moving again just to be sure. It had nothing to do with wanting to get away with burying his nose in Thorin’s hair for just a few moments longer, nope.  
  
-  
  
Too many nights spent on the road and on battlefields had made sure that Thorin fell asleep fast, slept deeply, and woke quickly, immediately ready to be on the move. So when Thorin woke up to find Bilbo pressed to his back (he did not need to see him to know it was him, but the small pale hand nestled on his chest was rather a big clue) he didn’t waste any time being confused and sleepy about it. Instead he jumped straight into a panicked state of mind. Not that Thorin would admit to panicking.  
  
Kings did not panic. They were in control, they made the plans, and they were always calm and composed. Okay, sometimes they made bad decisions out of anger, but they did not _panic_. (Especially not when certain priceless Hobbits almost managed to fall off cliffs.)  
  
Maybe the not-panicking rule might hold true only for the sort of kings that did not fall in love with a would-be Hobbit burglar who complained about handkerchiefs for days and then ended up being all sorts of (king’s should not use words like ‘cute’) _frustrating_ before saving your life.  
  
Bilbo likely had fallen asleep at about the same time Thorin himself had and had merely pressed close in search of warmth. It was probably Thorin’s own fault for getting Bilbo used to sleeping beneath his cloak - but the Hobbit had just looked so tiny and frozen without it, so it wasn’t like Thorin'd had much choice in the matter.  
  
Regardless how it came to happen what Thorin had to do now was to carefully extract himself before Bilbo woke up and became embarrassed by their position. At times the Hobbit was so concerned about what was proper (see: Handkerchief) and Thorin had the feeling that this would not be considered proper at all. Trying to become closer to Bilbo had always been a one step forward, two steps back kind of thing and he'd rather skip the backwards ones this time.  
For example: Learn that Bilbo was not in love with his nephew – huge step forward. Learn that Hobbit courting traditions were horribly complicated and involved flowers – big step back. Learn that Bilbo considered jewels and precious metal to be lousy courting gifts because they were _dead_ – even bigger step back. (His- _their_ burglar would look most striking in gold and rubies.)  
  
But when Thorin started to move, Bilbo’s arm tightened around him only to relax as he immediately stilled again. By the stone... Would he not be able to move without waking him? He doubted that he’d be able to roll away and get up fast enough for Bilbo not to notice where he’d come from. The way most Thorin’s muscles were grumbling at him certainly seemed to suggest that he might be able to roll to his belly and then need a bit of a time out. One of his legs seemed to be asleep as well. Had they spent the entire night like this and Thorin hadn’t even be awake to know about it? That was just unfair. Hmm, might as well enjoy it for just a moment longer. After all, Bilbo was still sleeping.


	21. The Dwarfs Who Cried Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a Plan! (but no bear, yet)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work is currently eating up a lot of the hours where I normally don’t work, so that’s why the slowness. Don’t give up even if updates will be a little more spaced – and/or shorter - than usual. Feel free to yell if my writing gets too sloppy.

While Fíli stretched out on the rocks to dry himself in the sun (and hopefully the sun would dry his clothes as well, because Kíli and he _might_ have gone overboard with the washing and he didn’t really feel like walking in wet clothes for too long) the rest of the company came down to the river as well.  
  
All except Thorin, Bilbo and Gandalf that was.  
  
This meant that his uncle probably needed some help to avoid spending the rest of his life snuggling Bilbo (out of fear that stopping would make it awkward). Why Gandalf hadn’t _accidentally_ thrown a flaming pine cone at the pair to get them moving Fíli did not dare to guess the answer to, but as he didn’t particularly want a flaming uncle he should just count his blessings. Oh, and get them up before Gandalf’s patience ran out. He would need help though. It wouldn’t be believable if it was just he who was screaming after all. With that in mind he waited until more of their Company had also finished washing before sharing his extremely cunning plan.  
  
“Will he even hear us if he’s sleeping?” Dori asked as he settled down on the rocks, trying to find a spot that didn’t make something dig into his more sensitive parts.  
  
“Oh, he wasn’t sleeping,” Nori snorted, then cursed as he messed up trying re-braiding his eyebrows.  
  
“Why don’t we just go and wake them up?” Glóin argued. “It seems unnecessary to-“  
  
“Because,” Kíli interrupted. “If we go wake them up they’ll have to admit that they were cuddled up to each other-“  
  
“Don’t see the harm in that,” Glóin muttered as he wrung water from his beard.  
  
Kíli looked at Fíli for help.  
  
“Okay, I’m Thorin, Bofur you are Bilbo,” Fíli said and put his arm around Bofur to pull him closer. They were already sitting next to each other on the ground, but now they were quite snug indeed, Bofur a source of warmth all along his side.  
  
“Remember that there are young impressionable Dwarfs around,” Dori hissed with a look over at Ori who was still in the water with Bombur (who had complained for ages about the cold water before finally getting in).  
  
“By the stone…” Fíli muttered. “I may be naked, but this is not about _that_. Now, I’m _Thorin_. Give me a second then someone _wake_ me. Bofur close your eyes too.”  
  
Fíli snuggled closer to Bofur and closed his eyes. The rest of the company looked dubiously at each other, but Dwalin shrugged and reached over to nudge Fíli’s shoulder. Fíli’s eyes immediately shot open to look at Dwalin, then they swivelled back to look at Bofur – still pretending to be asleep. As quickly as if he had been caught holding an Elf, Fíli snatched back the arm that had been curled around Bofur, and Bofur opened amused green eyes to look at the blond Dwarf.  
  
Fíli, in character as his brooding uncle, resolutely refused to meet his gaze.  
  
“I was under no circumstances doing anything remotely similar to cuddling with the Hobbit whom I’m certainly not interested in; at all, because I’m Thorin Oakenshield and I only admit to having feelings once in a blue moon, when Orcs fly-“

“Or Dwarfs fly on the back of Eagles,” Kíli snickered. (Like he was one to speak, really.)  
  
“Or that,” Fíli nodded graciously. “And because I most definitely was not doing anything of the sort with Bilbo, I mean my burglar, I mean Mister Baggins, I will now not have anything to do with him for the rest of the week because it would be horrible if he found out about my feelings – feelings I think I’m alone in, because I’m blind and can’t see that he feels the same way.”  
  
At the end of that there was a polite applause coming from the rest of the Dwarfs.

“And that’s why we need to wake them quick and maybe to be safe; without being anywhere near-by,” Fíli concluded. “That way they can pretend nothing really happened and things can be normal instead of some sort of awkward backsliding thing, because if Thorin ignores him, Bilbo will just think he’s offended him again. This way they both can pretend nothing happened.”  
  
“Speaking about nothing happening,” Dwalin said and raised an eyebrow. “When we get to this _friend_ of Gandalf will you go ahead and lock them inside a room together?”  
  
“Gandalf and his friend?” Glóin said, confused, and Nori sighed and concentrated harder on his braids.  
  
“If he won’t I might just do it,” Oín muttered. “What?” he asked when everyone looked at him.  “If I need to tell Thorin _again_ that the bite on our Burglar’s neck is not life threatening I will do something life threatening myself.”

“No comment,” Fíli said when Dwalin looked back at him for an answer. And it was said with as much dignity as could be found when you were completely naked and in a council to try and sort out your uncle’s love life.

“But Gandalf will still see them, won’t he,” Bofur pointed out.  
  
“Eh,” Nori said. “He sees everything anyway. No need to be embarrassed just because he was actually nearby.”  
  
“Besides,” Bofur said. “We’ve all _seen_ them, already. But none of them are likely to want the _other_ to know they know, even if they do know.” He paused and looked at Fíli. "I'm making myself confused."

“The bottom line is, that if Thorin thinks there’s danger then he’ll be up so fast he can even tell himself that Bilbo won’t have noticed him ever being there in the first place,” Kíli concluded.

Just about then Bombur and Ori made their dripping way back up from the river. Ori looked even slighter than normal compared to the bulk of Bombur and Fíli could see both Dori and Nori making plans involving Ori and a locked room filled with _food_.

“So what are we doing?” Bombur asked and tried to squeeze the excess water out of his long braid. It didn’t work so well and mostly looked like he was trying to strangle it.  
  
“We are scaring away a bear,” Fíli said with a grin.

-

Of course things didn’t go quite smoothly, but when did they ever.  
  
They all went a little closer to camp, just to make sure they would be heard, but not close enough to be seen. Then they realised they didn’t really know what to scream.

“Bear?” suggested Kíli.

“If there really was a bear, would you scream that?” Nori said doubtfully. “Wouldn’t you just go: aaaah!”

“Ssssh,” Dori admonished. “We’re not starting already.”  
  
“I thought you were supposed to play dead to get rid of bears,” Ori said a bit grumpily because no one had cared about his opinions about how bears wouldn’t go anywhere near this many Dwarfs in the first place.

“Lad,” Glóin said. “If you want to make it easier for them to eat you, then by all means, do that.”

“Just yell whatever you want,” Fíli said and rubbed his temples. “It’s not like Thorin is going to ask _what_ we were yelling, he'll be more concerned with the why.”  
  
“Maybe we should all get dressed first,” Dori suggested. “Our burglar has proven to be a bit sensitive about such things already.”  
  
“But that’s why we shouldn’t get dressed,” Kíli argued. “Thorin will be distracted by the potential threat and Bilbo will be distracted by seeing us all completely bare.”  
  
Bofur snorted.  
  
“I meant that he’ll be so embarrassed by it he won’t think about anything else,” Kíli said with a glare.

“On three?” Bombur asked.

“One,” Fíli said and nodded.  
  
“Two,” Kíli chimed in.  
  
“Wait, wait!” Dori  interrupted. "One, two: _scream_? Or one, two, _three_ : scream?”  
  
“How are we even related?” Nori casually inquired of his brother.  
  
“One, two, _three_ , then scream,” Fíli decided.  
  
“Thank you,” Dori said and then glared at Nori.  
  
“ _One_ ,” Dwalin said pointedly.  
  
“Two?” Ori said.  
  
“Thr-“ Bofur began.  
  
“Wait!” This time it was Kíli. “How long are we going to scream? Until they get here? Wouldn’t that be suspicious, us screaming at nothing, I mean.”

“Or we can say we just wanted to be on the safe side?” Balin suggested mildly.  
  
“Oh,” Kíli said. “That works.”  
  
The third time the countdown went without any further hitches and _after_ three they all yelled loudly.  
  
The nature of the screams varied between the previously mentioned ‘bear!’ and ‘ahhhs’ but also included such _innovative_ calls as ‘Get away you sorry looking ball of fur!” – Glóin, and ‘I’m going to make a pair of slippers out of you!’ – Ori.

They kept it up until they could see Thorin running towards them - a bit stiffly Fíli noted - with Orcrist at the ready, followed by a determined looking Bilbo also with his sword (or letter opener…) unsheated.  
  
“What it is?” Thorin demanded as he came closer. “Where is the enemy?”

Fíli noted smugly that Thorin was indeed much too busy to think of who he had been curled up with only moments before.  
  
“There was a bear,” Kíli said helpfully. “It’s gone now.”  
  
“A bear?” Thorin asked. “I did not think bears would come this close to such a large company.”  
  
“Hah,” Ori muttered before he was elbowed by both his brothers.  
  
“Are you all okay,” Bilbo asked, his gaze darting between them. Then the Hobbit turned red. Fíli had to consciously stop himself from smiling proudly. Step two of the plan working as well. An embarrassed and distracted Hobbit, check.  
  
“Why are you all _naked_?” Bilbo asked as he turned his eyes skyward.  
  
“Just doing a little bit of cleaning,” Bofur said cheerfully. “But I didn’t much fancy fighting a bear like this.”

Thorin still looked suspicious, but before he had the chance to ask more questions Gandalf joined them.  
  
“A bear you say,” the Wizard said mildly. As one the Company of Dwarfs nodded.  
“I see..” Gandalf said.

“What did I say,” Nori hissed.  
  
“Shut up,” Fíli said between clenched teeth. He just hoped Gandalf wouldn’t reveal their plot if he knew of it. But the Wizard’s next words eased his worries.

“Bears _are_ well known in this part of Middle Earth, Gandalf said.

“But it’s gone now,” Kíli reminded with a grin at his uncle and Bilbo. “So, if you wanted to clean up as well you’d be safe enough.”

Fíli shot an admiring look at his brother. That was a good plan, get them both naked and-

“No thank you,” Bilbo said, still looking upwards. “I think I’m fine.”  
  
Curses.  
  
“Oín,” Kíli said meaningfully. “Surely they should take the chance to clean their wounds?”  
  
Thorin’s eyes immediately snapped to Bilbo’s neck, and as if the Hobbit sensed it he casually pulled his collar higher up.

“As I said, I’m fine,” Bilbo said firmly. His eyes brieflycame down from the skies to sweep over them all. “I’m not the one whose skin look like it’s been painted on.”  
  
“A few bruises have never killed anyone,” Glóin rumbled, ignoring his brother’s mutterings about internal bleedings and horrible horrible things that could go wrong.

“Thorin, I want to take a look at your arm again,” Oín said after he stopped his grumbling. “And your sides, so you might as well bathe since you need to get undressed anyway. Ah-" he said when it seemed Thorin would protest. "Only after that will I be convinced to look at other _life threatening_ injuries again.”  
  
Thorin sighed, but didn’t protest further; instead he began to pull at the fastenings for his shirts.  
  
Bilbo blushed, but he didn’t actually leave. Fíli smirked. Perhaps a locked room would not be needed after all.  
  
An hour later found them fed, mostly dry, and ready to leave. It was about mid-day but Gandalf thought that they could still get to his friend’s place before dark.  
  
“Friend might not be the right word,” Gandalf admitted as they made for the ford. “You must all make sure to be very polite when I introduce you.”  
  
“I hope you didn’t tell them that before sending them to _my_ door,” Bilbo mumbled, pretending not to notice the hurt glares being thrown his way.

“Someone should carry our Hobbit,” Thorin said as they were about to cross the flat rocks that made up the ford.  
  
“Someone should most certainly _not_ ,” Bilbo objected, looking horrified, but Thorin went on regardless.

“The current is swift and those rocks could slippery. Your bare feet-”

“As there are no rock giants around, and the river looks quite shallow, I’m quite sure I’ll be fine,” Bilbo said pointedly.  
  
Thorin frowned. He took a step closer to Bilbo.  
  
“Please,” he said quietly. Fíli felt his eyes widen, and Bilbo looked even more surprised.  
  
“I- well, okay,” he finally stuttered. If Fíli could have patted himself on the back, (and if he could have done so inconspicuously,) he would have done so to congratulate himself on an splendid plan. This was so much better than awkward avoidance. This was _progress_!

_Soon they crossed the ford (carrying the hobbit), and then began to march through the long green grass and down the lines of the wide-armed oaks and the tall elms._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End bit taken directly from the novel.


	22. Interlude - I'm Happy (?) To Be Stuck With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin's versions of what happen when we last saw them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another interlude! Question. Is it annoying or interesting to have their POV's just after Fíli's? I mean, basically you're getting the same events twice so far. Boring or not?

This was shaping up to be such a strange day. And with the average strangeness of Bilbo’s days lately that _really_ was saying something.  
  
When he’d woken up curled around Thorin Bilbo would have expected that to be the uppermost limit for what life would throw at him that day. But right away it quickly escalated when he actually hadn’t been able to get up without accidentally waking Thorin, and yes, waking Thorin was a Bad Idea as Bilbo rather liked this version of the Dwarf that hugged him instead of yelled at him. Not that Thorin was hugging him a the moment, if anyone was doing any hugging that was Bilbo himself, and that was exactly why he figured the yelling might make a return.  
  
Bilbo had no idea of how long he’d actually just been lying there, feeling Thorin’s warmth pressed all along his front, but it was long enough to force the Hobbit to start picturing all sorts of disgusting things to avoid suddenly pressing _something_ of his own against Thorin back.

If he managed to get out of this mess somehow, he just hoped none of the others told Thorin about what had happened. Or well, nothing _had_ happened, but still. No thanks on the yelling.  
  
Thinking about things like troll-snot and goblins and that scavenger he’d stumbled upon down in the caves had been very effective to keep anything resembling desire away, but instead he’d managed to make himself half-way to queasy.  Wouldn’t it just be lovely if he’d ended throwing up on Thorin?

But it didn’t come to that. Abruptly the silence in the camp was chased away by screaming and shouting. And not just your usual shouting match between Óin and Glóin about whose beard was the most impressing. (Glóin claimed he _had_ to shout so that Óin would hear him, but Bilbo thought he just enjoyed making a racket.)

Before Bilbo had time to do even more than blink Thorin was gone, Orcrist in his hand and racing off towards the yelling.

Well. _That solved that particular pickle_ , Bilbo supposed.  
  
Scrambling to his feet Bilbo unsheathed his blade and ran after Thorin. Gandalf did not appear to be overly concerned about whatever was happening, but if anything happened that would be on the Wizard's head. Bilbo was _not_ taking any chances.

-  
  
Thorin was wondering if he had perhaps died at the top of the cliff after all, because surely this was _either_ a reward for being a good Dwarf and not selling his nephews to the highest bidder (or just giving them away) or alternatively this was cruel, cruel torture as punishment for having failed his people by not succeeding to reclaim Erebor.  
  
Because while Bilbo was so close Thorin couldn’t _touch_ him. What he wanted was just to turn around and collect Bilbo in his arms and do things that would make Gandalf rush to join the others by the river. Probably by the river. (Thorin had heard splashing noises earlier, and Kíli had yelled something about being wet.)  
  
He almost should thank them for being courteous enough to leave them alone, almost, because Thorin figured he would be hearing about this later. At least from Fíli and Kíli who had never really understood the meaning of the word _silence_. He’d have to make sure they didn’t say a _word_ if Bilbo was around to hear.

Then reality intruded on hus musing as he could hear shouts coming from his Company. And from what he could hear it was the type of shouting that meant trouble of the more dangerous kind.  
  
Before he knew how it had happened Thorin was on his feet and running towards the river. His muscles were screaming at him that he could not continue to abuse them in this matter, but Thorin was way too focused on the raised voices of his nephews and the rest of the Company to pay any attention.  
  
-  
  
 _Then_ as if the surprise bear attack was not strange enough, everyone was naked. Possibly excepting Fíli who appeared to have stolen Bofur’s hat. But he didn’t have _any_ clothes on either. None of them did, and Bilbo really hadn’t wanted to know that Dwalin’s tattoo’s covered that much of him.

Or that there was so much of Dwalin to cover-, no, just no. That thought could just clear right out of his mind, and never _ever_ return.

-  
After establishing that no one was in danger, (except maybe Fíli since he looked all too smug for his own good, and for some unknown reason that Thorin found himself utterly suspicious of) Thorin’s body finally managed to convince him that he was getting too old to be mauled by chased by Goblins, Wargs and clubbed by Orcs all in the same day. Everything ached.  
  
But at least he had managed to get away from Bilbo fast enough for the Hobbit to be none-the-wiser about just who he had been curled up behind.  
  
At the moment his, _their_ – for the love of stone - burglar was turning a most charming shade of red as he again had to face the fact that to bathe people _had_ to remove their clothes.

You’d think that Bilbo should already have accepted that fact since they all had bathed together once already (their stop at the hot springs was another incident that Thorin couldn’t quite pin down the nature of; either it had been the greatest point of their journey so far – even including making a fire out of  the Elves rickety furniture – or it had been the most frustrating experience of Thorin’s life) but since the Hobbit turned down a dip in the river it would seem he hadn't accepted it.  
  
Then Kíli suggested that water might be good for cleaning out their wounds and Thorin felt himself immediately turning to look at Bilbo’s throat. That _was_ the only wound the Hobbit had, right? Surely he could not have acquired more during the night. If that bite got infected Thorin would, well, make Óin do something about it while trying to stop himself from bundling up Bilbo in his coat and shipping him back to the Shire.

Thorin turned his attention back to the conversation when Óin demanded that he’d be allowed to check on Thorin’s arm and sides. They were _fine_ , just a little sore, (besides, everything ached, so what difference did it make) and Thorin was just going to turn down the offer (no need for them to dwell here any longer than necessary) when Óin outright _threatened_ him.  
  
Sighing Thorin acquiesced and began undressing. When he shot a glance at Bilbo the Hobbit was turning red again and refused to meet his eyes. Oh well, he hadn’t really been expecting a look full of interest anyway. But a Dwarf could hope. (Which was yet another thing Kings did not do. They just made sure things happened.)

-

Bilbo didn’t really understand why Thorin had agreed to let himself be examined by Óin. The Hobbit would have sworn that the King was just about to refuse when Óin had said something about refusing to look at some other life threatening injuries otherwise? How did that even begin to make sense?  
  
Thorin’s injuries surely weren’t _life threatening_? None of them had any wounds that threatened much of anything, thank the Valar. Besides, if it were- Oh hello.  
  
That was Thorin’s chest, yes it was. Getting more and more obvious as Thorin went about undressing.  
  
Bilbo hurriedly averted his gaze but accidentally found himself staring at Dwalin again and he quickly turned his eyes skywards. Why were all these Dwarfs still standing around _naked_.  
  
Bilbo snuck a glance back at Thorin who was now being poked and prodded by Óin. And why did Thorin still have his trousers on..?

Bilbo immediately blushed again as soon as he’d finished that thought, but his Tookish side persisted in wailing that it just wasn’t _fair_.

-

Just like panicking and hoping, _pleading_ was another thing that Kings were not supposed to do. Good thing he’d already decided to give up being a proper King. It simply could not be combined with being in love with a Hobbit it seemed. As it were, there was no way Thorin would risk Bilbo crossing the ford and slipping and being dragged down the stream and- Just, no.  
  
Goblins, Orcs, Wargs and Eagles was enough (even if he hadn’t seen the last happen). Thorin would not stand for his- _their,_ Hobbit being put through any more risks for - well, for forever if he could chose freely, but he’d settle for until they had to leave for Mirkwood. And then he'd stab any Elf that seemed to be a threat. 

One of their Company could easily carry Bilbo, especially since they hadn’t much gear to worry about any longer. (Was this one of those ‘ _half-full goblets’_ that Dís always went on about?)

Since pleading apparently worked surprisingly well (was this the first time Bilbo has had actually done as Thorin asked?) Thorin forced himself to promise not to abuse this knowledge in the future. (Kings _especially_ did not beg for kisses.)

Despite his un-kingly behaviour Thorin was feeling pretty proud of himself until he realised that everyone else had started to cross the ford, and now he and Bilbo was standing alone at the river side.  
  
This was _not_ what he had meant. He had meant that someone else should carry his, _their_ (Durin’s beard this was getting annoying) Hobbit. Not him.

“Fíli,” Thorin called after his nephew. _He_ could come back and carry Bilbo.  
  
“I can’t hear you, this extremely swift and _dangerous_ current is drowning your words!” Fíli called back, the little _brat_. Perhaps he could still sell him at the nearest market. Not to the Elves though. That would just be too cruel.  
  
When Thorin turned to Bilbo the Hobbits eyes were about as big as the Arkenstone ( _and just as pretty,_ a most un-kingly part of Thorin’s mind pointed out).  
  
Obviously it had been the right decision not to simply wake Bilbo before if this was how he reacted to the mere thought of Thorin carrying him across the river - something that would be over and done within minutes.  
  
Thorin crouched down and looked up at Bilbo, whose eyes had impossibly gotten bigger. Well, what had the Hobbit thought? Surely he wouldn’t prefer being carried in Thorin’s arms like a swooning maiden. (Which was a shame, as that would have come so very close to what Thorin had wanted just an hour earlier.)  
  
“Would you get on my back so we can have this done with,” Thorin demanded.  
  
There, if he put it like that Bilbo would not suspect him of anything untoward. And if Thorin appeared to be walking a bit too slowly across the ford that was just because he was being careful. Not because he wanted to have Bilbo pressed up to him for longer.  The very thought was silly. And Kings were _never_ silly.

-  
  
It was official; things just couldn’t get any weirder.

First Thorin had said _please_ , and while Bilbo was still reeling from that everyone else quickly started making their way across the ford, leaving Thorin as the only one who could carry Bilbo. Traitors. Bilbo was sure they knew how he felt about Thorin, and this was just mean of them. Though then again they were good sports for not telling Thorin anything in the first place.  
  
Then Thorin lowered himself down infront of Bilbo and the Hobbit's mind ran back to the Shire and the comforts of home.  
  
The King of Dwarfs; Thorin Oakenshield - son of Thráin, son of Thror, was crouched down, waiting for Bilbo to get on his back so that he could be carried safely across a river. (A river that merrily flowed downstream without giving _any_ signs of any dangerous currents. There _were_ a couple of fishes, but they looked friendly enough.)

When had his life completely stopped making sense? When he’d run after the Dwarfs? When they had eaten all his food and destroyed his plumbing? Or had it been hopeless the moment he’d wished Gandalf a _good morning_?  
  
Bilbo had no idea. He also had no idea of when exactly he’d walked up to Thorin and actually gotten onto his back. But as Bilbo’s arms were wrapped around Thorin’s neck and Thorin’s hands (big, warm, strong hands) were wrapped around Bilbo’s thighs, and his feet were no longer touching the ground, evidence seemed to prove that he was indeed pickaback-riding a king.

Luckily, sheer shock made it unnecessary for Bilbo to start thinking about disgusting things again. But it was a close call, because as Thorin walked across the stones Bilbo was bumped this way and that, and there was _friction_ in places where he really didn’t need any at the moment, thanks very much.  
  
Then it was over and Bilbo was being lowered to the ground, and for the second time that day he had to sternly tell his arms to stop clinging to Thorin. The Dwarf grunted slightly as Bilbo got off his back, and Bilbo was suddenly reminded that Thorin was _injured_.  
  
“Are you all right?” he asked carefully, weary of offending Thorin. “I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry if I caused you pain.”  
  
“You were not a heavy burden,” Thorin replied. “Do not worry yourself.”  
  
Well, that was easy for _him_ to say.  
  
“I could - if you wanted," Bilbo took a breath and started over. "My mother knew a thing or two about healing you see, and I think I remember the recipe for a salve that is used on bruises. I could perhaps make this when we’ve arrived at this friend of Gandalf’s? The ingredients are common enough. If you wanted, of course.”  
  
And now Thorin would turn him down and-  
  
“I would be honoured,” Thorin said and nodded. Then he began walking after the rest of the company.  
  
Things _really_ couldn’t get any stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo just don't understand that challenging fate is Bad Idea.


	23. Tiny Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in Fíli discovers that Thorin isn’t the only one a bit overprotective about the Hobbit, and where Bofur is awesome as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important note!!! If Peter Jackson can change things, I can too!
> 
> So this will be the one and only time I update this story this week. I’m not going to have time later. But, don’t despair trusty readers. I’ve posted two chapters and an interlude. Or I will, before the end of the day ;)
> 
> So don’t kill me, go on reading instead. (and then leave a comment? Pretty please? *makes puppy-eyes at you* You’ll have plenty of time to leave a comment -or two even- before I’m back again)

Okay, so Fíli would probably live to regret his decision to get everyone to cross the ford while Thorin and Bilbo were still staring at each other, but it had seemed like such a good call at the time. This way Thorin would have to just deal with his own protective feelings without getting the rest of them caught up in it. Mouthing off like that though… that probably had been pushing it.  
  
Kíli apparently agreed.

“Have you never met any luck you did not want to push?” his brother hissed and Fíli frowned.  
  
“As if you’re one to speak. You might just have undressed them both and pushed them into the water, Master There-Is-No-Bear, Take-Off-Your-Clothes. No, no, it was a good plan, but you think that was stealth I’m glad you’re not to be our burglar.”

“He’s got you there,” Bofur said and Fíli shot him a smile. He’d given Bofur back his hat as they’d gotten dressed and it was now back where it belonged, still, Fíli was (inappropriately) proud that he’d gotten to wear it in the first place. It looked better on Bofur though, and Fíli really hoped there would be time and space at this friend of Gandalf’s for them to find a bed and privacy so Fíli could show the other Dwarf just how good looking he found him. Hats and clothes optional (preferably removable).  
  
The three of them looked back at Thorin and Bilbo who was slowly making their way across the ford. A bit too slowly. Fíli once again began to worry that Thorin was more hurt than he’d let on, and he hurried his steps until he walked next to Óin.  
  
“Are you sure Thorin is all right,” he said softly to the other Dwarf, not wanting to alarm the others.  
  
“You’re going to have to speak up, lad!” Óin said and pointed towards his flattened ear trumpet.  
  
Oh, right. Never mind then, because Fíli wasn’t about to question his uncle’s judgement about his own injuries in front of the entire company. He could wait until he could do that front of just Óin.

“I was just saying that this is a nice change from the Misty Mountains,” Fíli said louder and waved towards the tall trees and green grass that surrounded them. Óin nodded and grinned crookedly.  
  
“The lack of rain and Goblins is most welcome,” he agreed. “And if young Kíli can get us some more rabbit’s for lunch-“  
  
“That is not an option I’m afraid,” Gandalf called, as usually hearing everything that wasn’t really any of his business.  
  
Gandalf was currently leading the way, something Fíli was a bit wary about as the Wizard so far hadn’t exactly proven that he was the most capable of path finders. Not that Fíli hadn’t appreciated Gandalf’s timely arrival inside Goblin Caves, but he had the suspicion that the Wizard had taken so long to catch up to them because he’d gotten lost on the way.  
  
But it wasn’t as they had any choice in the matter as none of them knew where this friend – who wasn’t really a friend? - lived.  
  
“And why not?” Fíli called back while Óin muttered about the unfairness clearly evident when you compared certain people’s hearing abilities.  
  
“Because the man we are going to stay with does not take kindly to hunting on his lands. And on his lands is where’ve been ever since crossing the river Anduin.”

“I thought you said we’d not reach his homestead for hours yet?” Dori questioned. “How can he lay claim to such a vast domain?”  
  
“Oh, he does not live alone,” Gandalf said, and then refused to answer their questions on the matter further, saying only that they’d better see it for themselves.  
  
“Well that sounds right ominous,” Bofur said to Fíli just as Thorin and Bilbo joined them. Bilbo seemed a little flustered, but that could just be from trying to keep up with Thorin. They probably hadn’t stopped for a quick snog. Though that would have been progress indeed! (As well as very considerate of them to do it while no one – especially not nephews – was watching.)  
  
“What does?” Bilbo asked, looking worried. Thorin turned his inquisitive stare at Fíli who shrugged.  
  
“Gandalf says we can’t hunt on this side of the river unless we want to offend our future host. And apparently his choice of companions is strange enough that we need to see it to believe it.”  
  
Thorin shot a dark look at the Gandalf’s back, obviously tired of the Wizard keeping secrets from him.  
  
“I think I must have a word with our Wizard,” Thorin rumbled. Before he left he nodded once at Bilbo who flushed. Fíli grinned and bumped his shoulder against Bofur’s who smiled back at him. Progress! Okay, Fíli didn’t know exactly what kind of progress, but regardless this certainly was improvement.  
  
The three of them walked together in silence for a couple of minutes until Bofur turned towards the Hobbit.  
  
“Bilbo, I just realised, you never had the chance before to say how you escaped the Goblins.”  
  
“Yes, how _did_ you get away from them,” Fíli asked. “Nori said you slipped away when they marched us all off to that rotten piece of lard. The Goblin King,” he clarified at Bilbo’s confused look.  
  
“I wouldn’t call it slipping away,” Bilbo said and hunched his shoulders a little. “It was more that they didn’t seem to notice I wasn’t actually moving along with the rest of you.”

Oh.

“We are all very sorry that we did not notice you weren’t with us when we escaped,” Fíli said gravely and touched his hand to Bilbo’s shoulder. “It was unforgivable.”

“No, no,” Bilbo protested. “It’s all-“  
  
“It’s not all right,” Bofur said and looked earnestly at Bilbo. “You’re one of us. And we should have made sure that you also were amongst us.”  
  
For some reason Bofur’s words just made Bilbo look more upset and Fíli glanced over at Thorin who thankfully was occupied by growling at Gandalf.  
  
“Am I really one of you though?” Bilbo said and looked glum. “I- I know I’m not- I mean-“  
  
“If this is about Uncle carrying you across the river he really meant no offence by it,” Fíli said cautiously. “He just-“ is madly in love with you and can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt. Fíli sighed. No, that wouldn’t do.  
“He can be… a little overprotective,” the blond Dwarf said instead.  
  
“That’s not it precisely,” Bilbo said and looked away. “If I tell you something, can you promise not to tell Thorin? It’s nothing bad, exactly,” he hurried to explain. “Just, he’s finally started to accept me as a part of the company,” (here Fíli literally had to bite his tongue to stop himself from clarifying a thing or two to their burglar) “And I’d hate for him to change his opinion so soon.”  
  
“We promise,” Bofur said comfortingly, and Fíli nodded, still keeping his teeth pressed down on his tongue in case it tried anything.

“I miss my books, and my arm chair, and my garden.” The words came rushing out of the Hobbit. “ _That’s_ where I belong. That’s home.” Though despite his words, as Bilbo finished his sentence his eyes sought out Thorin, who was still arguing with Gandalf. (It had gone from shouting to icy glares and hand waving.)

Fíli exchanged a somewhat panicked glance with Bofur. This was yet another thing that Thorin could not hear about or he’d just decide that o _f course_ Bilbo had to go back to the Shire, never mind that the yearning in his gaze when he looked at Thorin told another story of where the Hobbit would like to belong. Overprotective _really_ did not do his uncle justice. Blind on the other hand…  
  
“Of course you miss your home, lad,” Bofur said quietly. “But you’re wrong if you think you don’t also belong with us. You’re as much a member of this company as any of our number. You have been ever since you signed that contract and left your home, since you decided that we were worth helping.”

“I think that’s why I came,” Bilbo said without looking at either of them. “Because I actually have a home to leave, and one to get back to, and you- you don’t. Yours was taken from you, but I will help you take it back, if I can.”

Okay, now that, _that_ was something Thorin should hear. Repeatedly, hourly, until he got it through his head once and for all that Bilbo had joined them of his own choice, and of his own choice he would remain. Though, to be fair, Thorin’s more recent actions did seem to indicate that he had already stopped trying to scare Bilbo back to the Shire (and safety) by the sheer force of his frown.  
  
“Bilbo,” Fíli said cautiously. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”  
  
The blond Dwarf had put both hands on the Hobbit’s shoulders and stopped walking, which of course stopped Bilbo movement as well (and Bofur too as he wasn’t about to just leave them). At Fíli’s words Bilbo’s shoulders again crept closer to his ears, as if bracing himself for something unpleasant. But they loosened soon enough when Fíli leant in and hugged their silly little burglar who was so brave and honourable and completely stupid if he thought he wasn’t one of them, if he thought there was even the slightest chance that Fíli would have told him that they didn’t need his help.  
  
As Fíli folded his arms around Bilbo he realised how tiny the Hobbit really was. Fíli knew that he himself wasn’t the tallest Dwarf around (Kíli had gloated for months when he’d had a final growth spurt at 30 which had given him three extra inches over Fíli) but he still had a good four inches compared to Bilbo, and width wise the Hobbit was _surprisingly_ slight. Mahal, maybe it was lucky Thorin hadn’t rolled over in his sleep. What if he actually had squished Bilbo?  
  
Fíli pulled back, a bit concerned he was actually hugging too hard (though Bilbo had survived both Goblins, Orcs and hug from Thorin, so it was probably all right).  
  
“You’re-“ _tiny_ , Fíli mind filled in. “-one of us, Bilbo. And we’re thankful to have us with you.” From the side Bofur’s quiet but heartfelt ‘Aye’ came.  
  
“I- I don’t know what to say,” Bilbo stammered, glancing between Fíli and Bofur.  
  
“How ‘bout, ‘Yes I know I’m lucky to be counted among such handsome fellows, and I won’t get any ideas that the blond – especially handsome one – is carrying a torch for me’,” Bofur teased.  
  
“I’ve already apologized to Kíli for that,” Bilbo said affronted. “No need to bring it up again.”

Bofur looked innocent.  
  
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, lad.”  
  
“Uh-huh,” Bilbo grumbled.  
  
“Fíli!” Thorin yelled from the front of their troop. “This is _not_ the time to stop for pleasantries. You are holding us up.”  
  
Yeah, what that really meant was ‘get your hands off of my Hobbit’. Thorin had stopped arguing with Gandalf and now stood with his arms crossed all the way across the field they all were in.  
  
“We’ll be right there!” Fíli called back. He turned back to Bilbo.  
  
“Truly, we are grateful. And not just for saving Thorin’s life- Ah!-“ he said when it looked Bilbo would protest. “But even before that.”  
  
“I’ve never before been so glad to have someone accuse Bombur of having parasites,” Bofur agreed with a smile, though his eyes were serious.

“Does that happen often then?” Bilbo joked, still looking a little abashed, and Fíli grinned.  
  
“Well,” Bofur drawled. “I think it’s got something to do with the size of him, lots of room for something to set up shop.”  
  
“FÍLI!” Thorin bellowed and Fíli winced. He was indeed going to regret his fly-away comment by the river.  
  
“We’d better catch up to them,” Fíli sighed (completely forgetting that Bilbo hadn’t actually told them anything about how he’d escaped the Goblins) and the three of them started towards the rest of the company again. As they reached their friends, Balin, taking pity on them all, requested that Bilbo would walk with him (and incidentally; Thorin) so he could tell Bilbo more about the wonder that was Erebor.  
  
Fíli and Bofur remained at the end of their procession and Fíli took the opportunity share his most recent Hobbit related discovery. Bilbo was literally half the size of Thorin, and while Fíli knew that his uncle would never do anything to hurt Bilbo he, well, he now worried nonetheless.  
  
“He is so _tiny_ ,” the blond Dwarf whispered. “And Uncle isn’t exactly the smallest amongst us.

Bofur choked on a laugh.  
“Ah, so it’s true what they say about the size of a Dwarf’s boots?” he managed to get out between wheezes.  
  
“What?” Fíli said confused and shot a glance at Thorin’s feet. Then his mind caught up with Bofur’s and Fíli stopped abruptly, eyes wide with horror. “No! Ugh. No!!!”  
  
He shook his head to clear it of the horrible, scarring images Bofur’s question had prompted.

“Evil!” Fíli hissed and narrowed his eyes at the wicked mastermind that looked so deceptively innocent with those crinkly green eyes and that lovely smile.

“I liked you being all majestic,” Bofur mused. “With all the heartfelt thanks and such, but I your eyes turn the comeliest shade of blue when you’re shocked so I’m not sure how a Dwarf is supposed to resist such temptation.”

Fíli huffed but pulled Bofur in for a quick kiss.  
  
“Flattery won’t get you out of trouble,” he chided as they parted.  
  
“Ah, so _this_ be trouble then?” Bofur asked and stroked his hand through Fíli’s hair. “I think I like it, mind if I-“  
  
“FÍLI!”  
  
“We’ll be right there!” Fíli yelled back and pulled a snickering Bofur along. Mahal, this was just like when Thorin would take him and Kíli with him on trips when they were children. Any minute now Thorin would say something about how he would turn this pony, erm, quest, around if they didn’t do as they were told.


	24. Bigger Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in Bilbo picks flowers, Fíli argues with a sheep, and we finally get back to Kíli and Mr. Mystery Dwarf. (Or is it Gandalf? mwahaha).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I thought I'd never get these guys to Beorn. Unbelievable, they just kept going off doing other things. But finally!

Another hour found Fíli walking next to Kíli, who seemed to be deep in thought. Fíli hoped he was thinking about a more graceful way to say ‘I love you, I’m an idiot, please don’t hold that against me’ to whoever it was that he loved, so he didn’t push when Kíli mostly grunted in replies to his witty comments. Wit was wasted on both Kíli and Thorin it seemed, as Thorin still glared at Fíli every now and again.  
  
Or maybe it was due to the hugging, but Thorin only had himself to blame there. No need to wait until they survived an Orc attack after all.

Speaking of Bilbo, the Hobbit had been behaving a little strangely ever since the grasslands had once and for all given way to rolling fields and meadows. Every now and again he would dash off to the side and return with a bunch of weeds. If this was some weird Hobbit courting thing then, well, he hoped Thorin could fake liking those white and yellow things Bilbo was now in the process of uprooting.

When one of Bilbo’s little side trips brought him close to Fíli and Kíli, Fíli took the opportunity to investigate.  
  
“Are those for anyone in particular?” Fíli asked discreetly. It wouldn’t do to just ask if they were for Thorin after all, maybe weed-picking was some sort of Hobbit stress-relief. Bilbo did talk quite a bit about gardening after all.  
  
“They’re for Thorin,” Bilbo said absently as he bent down to uproot the biggest of the white things so far. The stems were thick and the small white flowers where clustered together in something vaguely resembling a brush. Fíli wished his uncle the best of luck trying to look suitable grateful as it seemed he _would_ be presented with them when Bilbo decided his efforts were complete. Then again, progress was progress, and this was a huge step, this was-  
  
“Oh, but that’s very rude of me, I should get some for everyone,” Bilbo reproached himself, and Fíli and Kíli blinked at each other as the Hobbit rushed off again on in search for more weeds. Weeds Fíli now hoped was _not_ part of Hobbit courting after all.  
  
“I know Hobbits speak Westron,” Kíli said slowly. “But sometimes I think I still don’t understand a word of what he’s saying.”  
  
“He can’t mean,” Fíli did not know how to complete that sentence without sounding like an idiot. “Surely we’re misunderstanding.”  
  
“Maybe flowers are not used just for courting,” Kíli mused. “Maybe those ones means ‘we survived an Orc attack and then Eagles came’?”  
  
“The purple ones are Wolfsbane,” Fíli said and shook his head. “No Eagles.”  
  
“Isn’t that poisonous?” Kíli asked and shoot a worried glance at Bilbo.  
  
“He seems to know that, he’s not actually touched the plant.” Indeed, the handkerchief donated by Bofur at the start of their journey, had been carefully wrapped around the long stems so Bilbo would not have to touch them. “So don’t go telling Thorin. I don’t think our burglar would take kindly if Uncle forbade him to play with plants.”  
  
“Didn’t much appreciate being carried, eh?”  
  
“Well if he did I don’t want to know about it,” Fíli said with a grimace.  
  


Except for Bilbo darting around looking for more flowers the rest of the afternoon passed without issues (the issue with the flower-thing was the strained look on Thorin’s face when he lost sight of Bilbo as the Hobbit zipped behind bushes and trees, but he valiantly kept his mouth shut).  
  
Gandalf eventually took pity on the band of confused Dwarfs and explained that yarrow, comfrey, wolfsbane (the rest of the names Fíli hadn’t even _heard_ before) could be used as a pain reliever and to  hasten the healing of scrapes and bruises. Everyone more gave a relieved sigh at that, for more than one reason.  
  
Shortly before dusk Gandalf held up his hand.

“Mind your step from now on,” the Wizard cautioned. “Especially you, Bilbo.”  
  
“And will you tell us why?” Thorin glared.  
  
“As I said, some things are better seen for yourself.” Gandalf then pointed to what Fíli had taken to be a large flower. Only… the flower appeared to be buzzing?  
  
“As it is getting dark they should all return to their hives,” Gandalf continued as a bee, easily half the size of Fíli’s palm, rose from the flower it had been perched on to lazily fly in the same direction they were heading in. “But it would still be wise to be cautious of where you set your feet.”  
  
Thorin looked on the verge of suggesting that Bilbo needed to be carried again, but resisted, and after a while they came to a line of ancient oak trees and the edge of a well-kept hedge (much too high for even Gandalf to see past)  just beyond them. Here the Wizard again made them stop.  
  
At the suggestion (or politely disguised command) that they better not come all at once to meet this man, this Beorn, and that Gandalf and Bilbo should go ahead of the rest of them Thorin bristled again.  
  
“You will do this or you will end up spending the night on this very field, Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf thundered, and then the Wizard and Bilbo went off in search of the gate followed by Thorin’s glare. They were to go two and two (apart from poor Bombur who was to go alone – Gandalf was not taking any chances) and only enter the house when Gandalf whistled.  
  
Unsurprisingly Thorin volunteered to be first to follow Gandalf and Bilbo. Dwalin offered to accompany him, but Thorin instead brought Dori.  
  
It was a good tactical decision Fíli mused. If he’d picked Dwalin then the members of the company waiting by the hedge would be down two of their very best fighters, but Dori was perhaps the strongest amongst them and would be a good Dwarf to find by your side if trouble waited.  
  
Eventually it had become Fíli’s turn to go in search of the gate nestled in the thorny hedge. He had been picked to go in with Kíli somewhere in the middle - when it had seemed obvious that the animals that had begun to flock around them meant merely were curious and did not mean them any harm.  
  
“Get off me,” Glóin had growled at a rabbit that had taken a seat on his right foot, gazing up at him with huge inquisitive eyes.  
  
Inside the hedges even more bees buzzed around sleepily, and more animals – mostly horses – wandered about. It seemed like the obvious choice to go towards the big house they could see, so that’s exactly where the brothers went.  
  
“This is strange,” Kíli mumbled to Fíli as they passed a roan that seemed to observe them with eyes to clever by half to really belong to a horse.  
  
“Well, so is your face,” Fíli whispered back. “Remember what Gandalf said, be polite.”  
Fíli smiled charmingly at the horse but it merely snorted and wandered off.  
  
The doors leading into the house was absolutely huge, and as the whistle came and they entered, it was clear the actual house was built in much the same scale. The reason behind that became obvious as Fíli saw their would-be host.  
  
Gandalf and those who had come before them was seated on benches around a large wooden table (everyone’s legs except Gandalf’s dangled quite a bit above the ground) and at the head of the table was the largest Man Fíli had ever seen. Bigger than the Wizard by at least a head, and more than twice as wide.

Fíli and Kíli put on their best smiles and bowed to their host. It appeared Gandalf’s trick was not quite working because the Man, Beorn, seemed quite put upon as he ordered them to just sit down and be quiet.

Gandalf appeared to be in the middle of sharing their adventure thus far and when he came to the part about Bilbo not having been amongst their company after their escape from the Goblins Thorin’s mouth thinned until it almost disappeared.

Beorn on the other hand appeared to be most intrigued by Gandalf’s tale, even laughing out loud when the part of the Goblin King’s demise had been told. At the end of their tale, when they all were together inside the cave-like room (going by size at least, because it was quite fine-looking really, with intricately carved wooden pillars holding up the roof, as well as several beautifully woven rugs placed on the floor) Beorn smacked his hands down on the table, making Bilbo (who had started to nod off) almost jump into Dori’s lap.

“A very good tale,” Beorn rumbled. “And worthy of supper even if you are making it all up. Let’s have something to eat!”  
  
“Yes, please,” Bilbo and Bombur chorused, and Beorn laughed again and patted Bilbo on his curly little head like you would have a puppy. Thorin appeared to take more offence at this than Bilbo did. The Hobbit just sighed and seemed to think that a little indignity could very well be worth the price of good food.  
  
Being served by animals was strange, but Fíli was more or less all right with this. Food was food after all, even if it was taken into the hall on a dog walking on just its hind legs.

Their host did not stay for the entirety of their meal. After the first course had been served he’d told them that there would be rooms waiting for them when they wanted to retire, and then the big man had left them - though not before warning them that they better stay inside until the sun was again seen on the sky. This prompted another discussion (argument) between Thorin and Gandalf as Fíli’s uncle seemed to be well and truly fed up with Men telling him what to do.

Gandalf won. (Thorin did whatever kings did when normal people would have been described as sulking)  
  
Fíli wondered exactly what sort of dangers could be found outside. Were the bees more dangerous at night perhaps? Or did the horses turn into bloodthirsty ghouls after sunset? Because it seemed unlikely that any Orcs or Goblins would be able to get past the many dogs outside without being noticed.  
  
After dinner Dori was the first to retire, leaving an empty space between Thorin and Bilbo which they both pretended that they didn’t want to fill. Not long after Dori had left the room he came back to tell them that they all had gotten a room each, no need for sharing. Thorin shot an inquiring look at Gandalf.  
  
“I assure you we’re quite safe here,” the Wizard said and blew a smoke ring, for once actually in the form of an actual ring. “But you’d do well not to forget what Beorn said before he left us: you must not stray outside until the sun is up, on your peril.”  
  
Thorin muttered something, but he nodded to Dori who nodded back and once again disappeared out into the hallway.  
  
Fíli casually glanced at Bofur who casually glanced back. Private rooms, eh? (Just how big was this place anyway?) And no need for anyone to stand guard. And the walls seemed to be quite thick since they were made from heavy wood boards and logs. Well...

As the fire in the hearth burned down to embers the dogs came back into the hall to show the rest of them to their rooms.  
  
“Maybe we should not split up after all,” Fíli murmured to Bofur as they were being led down a long corridor by two large grey dogs, the rest of their company having already been shown to their rooms.  “It would be _safer_ not to be alone.”  
  
Bofur’s guide turned left into another corridor and before following it Bofur laughed and leaned in to kiss Fíli.  
  
“Well, if you find yourself frightened being all alone in your room you’re welcome to come and find me.”  
  
Fíli would have been okay with going with him right away, but his escort pulled the edge of his cloak as he tried to follow Bofur.

“Fine,” the blond Dwarf muttered. “But if I get lost finding him later I’m blaming you.”  
  
The dog wuffed in reply and wagged its tail.  
  
The rooms would probably have been considered quite small for someone of Beorn’s size, but to Fíli they were spacious, and the bed looked _very_ inviting. Making sure to thank his guide Fíli closed the door behind him, removed the outward layers of his clothes, as well as his boots, and threw himself down on the bed. Or rather, threw himself _up_ on the bed, because like all other furniture it was a bit oversized for a Dwarf.  
  
By Mahal, it was nice to actually have a real bed again. Maybe Thorin would be all right with them staying for a week and Fíli could finally catch back on all the sleep he hadn’t been getting ever since they left Ered Luin. But right now was not the time to be asleep. Not when Bofur was waiting for him.

Groaning Fíli got out of the bed and patted it in apology for not doing it justice. He’d be back later, maybe with a Bofur in tow.

Ten minutes later Fíli still hadn’t found Bofur’s room. This place really was too big. Finally he gave up and went back to the main hall where he found a pony willing to show him the way. At least that’s what he hoped the pony was doing. For all he knew his request to be taken to _the friendly looking Dwarf with the hat_ translated into Pony as something else entirely.

But nothing ventured, nothing gained, Fíli thought and knocked softly on the door the pony had snuffled at before trotting off again. No answer came. Great, wrong room again.

Just to be sure Fíli opened the door just a sliver, and what did he see if not Bofur’s boots.  
  
Pushing the door open Fíli was just about to call Bofur's name when he saw that the other Dwarf was slumped on the bed, well and truly asleep.

Bofur seemed to have had the same idea as Fïli as he’d removed his outer coat and boots. But the not-falling-asleep-part seemed to have worked a little less well.  
  
Fíli sighed, and thought about curling up around Bofur (this bed seemed just as inviting, even more so actually considering the company) but perhaps it was better to just let him sleep and then they would both be well rested in the morning. Fíli didn’t really trust himself not to start anything with Bofur so close and everyone else for once not right beside them, but if Bofur had fallen asleep this quickly then he might need the rest.  
  
Before he left Fíli tip-toed up to Bofur and stole his hat. This way, when Bofur woke up, he’d be well motivated to come and find Fíli.

Hat on head Fíli stepped out into the corridor and carefully closed the door behind him. He didn’t quite feel ready to go to sleep yet, so instead he went looking for his brother. Better make sure Kíli wasn’t out getting abducted by bees or getting into trouble.  
  
Kíli had been given a room was pretty close to the main hall, and Fíli had no trouble finding his way back there. As he came closer he could actually hear his brother’s voice, which was good because it meant no evil bees, but bad, because it meant the rooms really weren’t soundproof after all. Though Bofur’s room was pretty far away from everyone else’s so maybe…  
  
Oh, the door to Kíli’s room was actually open just the slightest bit. That was good news regarding the soundproofing.  
  
Just about then Fíli’s ears actually caught on to what his brother was saying.  
  
“-and I just want to say that I love you.”  
  
Fíli grinned. Well that was about time. Now if only Thorin would tell Bilbo-  
  
“Oh, that was lovely,” _Bilbo_ said softly, and Fíli’s mind went blank.  
  
No, no, no, _no_! This was not- why did he, why did _Bilbo_ \- No!  
  
“But perhaps you need to point out that you love him as more than a friend,” Bilbo continued and saved Fíli’s brain from coming out of his ears. It _wasn’t_ Bilbo who Kíli loved, thank Mahal.  
  
“How do I do that?” Kíli asked, sounding uncharacteristically wary.  
  
“Just say that you’re in love with him, and then kiss him. It’s not like that can be misinterpreted.”  
  
Fíli just shook his head.  
If Bilbo tried that on Thorin his uncle might actually manage to convince himself that the Hobbit was merely  sleepwalking or something similar. But that was a problem for another night, now Fíli better get away before they noticed he was eavesdropping. It was a big brother’s duty to check up on their little brothers, but it was best for all involved if they did not get caught while doing it.  
  
Half-an hour later found Fíli back in his room, on the bed, but unable to go to sleep. The bed was lovely, and Bofur’s hat smelled of Bofur, which was also lovely, but for some reason Fíli couldn’t seem to relax. Sighing he rolled out of bed. Maybe he might as well go back to Bofur after all. He was a Durin, he could keep his hands to himself. Just look at Thorin and Kíli who even managed to keep their feelings to themselves. Hands should be no problem. He could lie on them if they strayed.  
  
Though speaking of Kíli, perhaps it would be best to check up on him again. Just in case he needed his brother for anything of course. Not because Fíli was curious about just who his brother was planning to reveal his feelings for, no, no. This was only brotherly concern.  
  
This time Kíli’s door was closed, and there was no keyhole to peek through either. Taking off Bofur’s hat Fíli put his ear to the door. Just then a sheep walked by and bleated something insulting-sounding at him.  
  
“Well, _you_ can mind _your_ business then,” Fíli hissed back.  
  
With his ear pressed to the door he could just make out what Kíli was saying.  
  
“- in love with you, and I hope that you will give me a chance to prove it.”  
  
There was no reply, and Fíli pressed closer to the door. Was Kíli practicing alone now? Then there was a small sound, sounding a lot like a sob. Was Kíli crying? Was-  
  
“Kíli,” Ori said in a slightly choked voice. “There’s not a Dwarf alive who could resist-“  
  
Grinning Fíli backed away from the door. So it was _Ori_ his brother loved, and from what he’d just heard it wasn’t nearly has unrequited as Kíli had feared. (AND IT WASN’T GANDALF!) Without asking him for permission Fíli’s feet did a little victory dance, then he quickly crept away.

-

The next morning Fíli woke when someone banged heavily on the door to his room. Or wait, Bofur’s room, because after sneaking away from the two lovebirds (there were a lot of animals hanging around this strange place, so what were two more) Fíli had gone back to Bofur’s room and snuck in next to him in the bed. He hadn’t given back the hat though.

The door opened and Bombur stuck his head inside, hand covering his eyes.  
  
“Everybody decent?” he asked. “If not, make yourself so and get down or there’ll be no breakfast left for you.” Then he spread his fingers so he could peek through them.  
“And _you_ might want to see what your brother is up to,” the rotund Dwarf added as he smirked Fíli. With that Bombur drew back his head and closed the door again.  
  
Bofur muttered something and curled closer to Fíli. But Fíli’s curiosity had been woken together with the rest of him. He was rather interested to see how his brother was fairing.  
  
Had he announced his courtship to Ori publically so Fíli finally could tease him about it without feeling like someone punching a kitten? (Big brothers weren’t allowed to tease their younger brother’s about _unrequited_ love, it was in the contract.)

Only, when Fíli came down to the large room (that didn’t seem nearly as cave-like in the light of day) it wasn’t Ori that Kíli was sitting practically on top of. It wasn’t Ori at _all_.  
   
“That’s not Ori!” was all the confused Dwarf could think to say. (But at least it wasn't the Wizard either, the more awake part of Fíli's brain added.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, don’t kill me! Interlude coming right up.


	25. Interlude - Even A Blind Squirrel Finds An Acorn (Once In A While)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in we finally, finally (!) get some resolve regarding Kíli’s situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm, warning (?) some self-esteem issues ahead.

Okay, Kíli thought to himself as he paced back and forth inside the nice room the nice dog had led him to. This was good. This was great. He could do this. He _would_ do this.  
  
Kíli had already tried his speech on both Bilbo and Ori, and they both had thought it was good, great even. Ori had practically been in tears. And they had given him pointers and now he was ready. He was _so_ ready. He would just march right up and tell him. He could do that. He knew what to say, and even when he didn't, he always had _something_ to say. But that was just to keep their family balanced, because Fíli and their mother talked a normal amount, but Thorin talked too little. So it was clearly up to Kíli to even things out.  
  
Kíli drew in a deep breath.

He could – he could _not_ do this! By Durin’s beard.  
  
Kíli slumped down against the wall. He was a _coward_ , his brother was wrong, Kíli was weak and a coward and he should just march right back to the river and throw himself in it. It was only a four hours or so walk, it’d be quick. Except that they weren’t supposed to go outside... Hmm, perhaps he wouldn’t need to go back to the river after all. Whatever horrible thing lurking outside might eat him and spare him from the shame of living another day (erm, night).

It was just, why would _anyone_ want him, he who had yet to grow a proper beard and looked too much like an damned Elf and had stupid hair that braids never seemed to tame.  
  
Kíli knew he wasn’t that much to look at, he’d heard the whispers in Ered Luin about his ‘delicate features’, his too small nose and-  
  
Kíli banged his head against the wall to stop his thoughts.  
  
He didn’t _really_ care what people thought, he’d taken up the bow as his primary weapon because he was good at it, and that was worth even more whispers about Elves. He didn’t _care_ what they said and he was just glad Thorin and Fíli hadn’t heard any of it because now that would had been embarrassing. He was over 70 after all. He was not a child anymore, he didn't need anyone protecting him against bullies.

Not that Dwalin seemed to have noticed that he'd grown up. Sighing Kíli wrapped his arms around his knees.  
  
When Thorin had finally agreed to let them come on the quest with him Kíli’s first thought had been that _Dwalin_ was sure to come as well.  
  
He hadn’t found that thought strange at the time. After all, it had been months since they’d last seen him, and Kíli knew Fíli missed Dwalin as well. And of _course_ Dwalin would join Thorin, as if he’d let anyone go dragon hunting without bringing him along to tell them they were doing it wrong.  
  
Then they had gotten to Hobbiton and Dwalin had already been there and Kíli’s grin had probably been ridiculous, but it had been _really_ good to see Dwalin, oh, and Balin of course. But Balin rarely left Ered Luin, so it wasn’t like Kíli ever really had time to miss him.  
  
Then Dwalin had slung his arm over Kíli’s shoulders and Kíli’s first thought had been to wrap both his arms around Dwalin in a hug (normal enough) and to never let go (a bit stranger) unless it was to get a better hold– Dwalin’s beard looked like it’d be perfect to bury a hand in while you moved in for a kiss (and _that_ thought just hadn’t been normal at all!).  
  
Dwalin was handsome, sure. Kíli had always known that. He wasn’t blind. But never before had he wanted to trace the tattoos on Dwalin’s head with his tongue (really, really, not normal, no). Thorin was handsome too, but Kíli had no desire to lick _him_.  
  
The very thought made had the dark haired young Dwarf make a grimace of disgust which quickly was replaced by a smile as Dwalin pulled him along into the Hobbit’s home.

There was quite of a lot of furniture to be moved before they all would fit, so Kíli busied himself carrying things while he pondered his revelation. It took some time, but finally he figured he'd sorted things out (and not just the furniture)

They were going on a quest, possibly deadly, most definitely dangerous (Thorin had certainly pointed that out enough times) so really why waste time if he now wanted Dwalin? Why not make things clear between them right away?  
  
(It has to be pointed out that when Kíli reached this conclusion he might have had a little too much to drink, perhaps it was unlucky he and Fíli had found the Hobbit’s delicious beer so early.)

Still it had seemed like such a good plan he’d thought out. When Kíli later found himself sitting by Dwalin after they’d finished their meal and all the talk about the quest, the young Dwarf simply put his hand on Dwalin’s (very well-muscled and sturdy) thigh, just as a first friendly ‘hello, I like you, do you like me?’.  
  
No need to say anything out loud as they were in the middle of a very crowded room with both their families around. That’d open them both up for a lot of unnecessary teasing.

But Dwalin had not acknowledged the touch apart from removing Kíli’s hand. He hadn't put his own hand on Kíli's, or once again slung his arms over his shoulder, he'd just lifted Kíli's hand away.

But no Durin gave up so easily at the first sign of difficulty (if that was the case they wouldn’t be on this quest to start with as Thorin would just have stayed in Ered Luin) so Kíli reached up a hand to stroke through Dwalin’s beard (touching someone’s beard definitely counted as a sign of interest) but his hand never reached its goal because Dwalin had simply plucked it out of the air and pushed it back down.

And that hurt. Being rejected like that had made Kíli's heart ache. And as hearts did not ache merely because you were denied copping a feel Kíli realised that there might be more to his revelation that just the fact that he’d not mind licking certain choice parts of Dwalin.

Bravely Kíli had tried again to show his interest. And again. But after Kíli had accidentally found himself pressed to Dwalin’s side (Bombur had sat down to Kíli’s right) and Dwalin had inched away without even looking at Kíli, it had been all too clear. His heart ached; he was in love, and Dwalin did not want him back.  
  
And why would he, Kíli again thought as he sat on the floor in Beorn’s house. Surely Fíli was wrong when he said it could just have been a misunderstanding. What was there to misunderstand? And besides, Dwalin could clearly have anyone he wanted, so why had Kíli even thought he’d be interested in the first place...

The more sensible part of his brain told Kíli that he was being stupid and that he should march right out of the room, find Dwalin, and tell him everything. Even if it would only lead to finally knowing for _sure_ that he wasn’t wanted. (His brain sounded a lot like Balin when it came to matters such as this.)  
  
Sighing Kíli scrambled back up from the floor. He might as well go ahead and tell him. This place was huge and when he was rejected there would at least be a lot more space to avoid each other then there would be on the road. And Fíli was right, Dwalin deserved to know he was loved. That Kíli just hadn't tried to feel up the closest warm body, if that was indeed what the other Dwarf might be thinking.  
  
Squaring his shoulders Kíli marched to the door and opened it, perhaps a bit to forcefully as a rabbit hopping by outside in the corridor squeaked and hurriedly jumped away down the hall.  
  
“Sorry!” Kíli called after it before he headed the way he thought Dwalin’s room was in.  
  
Maybe he should have asked the rabbit for directions…  
  
-  
  
The very second Dwalin had seen Kíli inside the Hobbit’s weird little home he’d known there’d been something different about him.  
  
This was rather strange as it hadn’t been all that long since he’d last seen Thorin’s nephews, it had been quite a while since Dwalin had gone on one of his longer visits to Dáin, or any of their other kin. He'd just been gone a few months this time, on Thorin's behalf.  
  
Dwalin could still remember the time he’d been gone well over a year (the Orc population around the Iron Mountains had been _quite_ diminished as he’d left them) and he’d come home to find a smug Kíli towering three cherished inches over Fíli. But Kíli was much too old to have any growth spurts these days, and even apart from that he looked much the same as he’d done when Dwalin had seen him in Ered Luin only three-four months back. Same wild hair (perhaps a little longer) and sparkling eyes, same smile revealing white teeth, same firm muscled body and kissable lips, same-

Wait one damned second. _What_?  
  
Dwalin might have accidentally squeezed too hard on the lad’s shoulder in his shock because Kíli shuddered just the slightest bit and Dwalin saw that the younger Dwarf’s hands twitch.

He slapped Kíli’s back in apology before drawing his arm back.  
  
As they busied themselves making the Hobbit’s home more Dwarf-friendly (really, couldn’t Gandalf had told the Halfling to prepare at least a little for their arrival) Dwalin’s thoughts kept coming back to Kíli. Actually, they never really left him.  
  
The lad had grown up into quite the comely ( _beautiful_ ) lad, but that really wasn’t something Dwalin even had the right to notice beyond just a casual observation. Even disregarding that Dwalin indeed had _seen_ Kíli grow up into the good-looking  ( _gorgeous_ ) Dwarf he was, and as such should keep his big paws well away from him just based on the fact that he'd known the boy when he'd been small enough to hold him in said hands, there was also the fact the someone like Kíli was much too good for him. He should be with someone equally young and bright, and not be weighed down by a big lump like Dwalin – who had as many scars and grey hairs as there were stars in the sky.  
  
Maybe there had been something strange in the Halfling’s food? Maybe the little people had a tendency to poison the meals of guests that might only _technically_ have been invited (invited yes, just not by the owner of the home). Maybe Dwalin would wake up in the morn and this would just be a strange memory, brought out by bad fish? The large Dwarf clung to that thought when Kíli began to cling to _him_.  
  
Durin’s beard, why did the lad have to be so comfortable touching people? He’d hung all over his brother during their dinner and now he’d plunked himself down next to Dwalin, seemingly intent on continuing in much the same way.  
  
Not that having that strong, warm hand place itself on his thigh hadn’t been nice, but that was the problem wasn’t it. And the boy’s further actions really didn’t help Dwalin in trying not to think about whether the Halfling’s neighbours would die from fright if Dwalin took Kíli outside and- (He had to stop that thought right there or else never be able to look Thorin in the eyes again). And while his mind realised that Kíli was just being friendly, and perhaps a bit drunk, certain other parts of him _didn't_ , and the lad better not put that waving hand anywhere near Dwalin's thigh again or he'd might get a fright.  
  
Thorin was another reason why this was an extremely bad idea. Not that Kíli would _ever_ agree if Dwalin proposed a courtship, but Thorin knew just what kind of Dwarf Dwalin was, and would he really want someone with so much blood on his hands (just filthy black blood, but still) running after his newphew? A young prince could get much better offers after all.  
  
Dwalin mentally cursed and tried to get some air between him and Kíli. He could not allow himself to think of the lad like anything _but_ a lad. Someone too innocent to even realise just what his touches was doing to Dwalin. Because why would this time be different to Kíli just because some part of Dwalin had gone insane? Kíli’d always been quite the friendly little thing, always touching everything and getting in trouble for it.  
  
Dwalin sighed and tried to inch closer to Bifur as Kíli once again pressed his warm, sturdy body all along Dwalin’s side. Well, this time, it looked like _Kíli_ wasn’t the one in trouble didn’t it.  
  
-  
  
Outside Dwalin’s door Kíli took a deep breath then knocked. When there was no answer he knocked again, and waited some more. Finally- hours, _days_ (or just a minute), the door opened and a half-naked, sleep mussed Dwalin became visible.  
  
Kíli made a valiant effort not to just jump him and it only succeeded because that plan really hadn’t worked all too well last time.  
  
“I’m-“ Kíli’s voice cracked as if he was a young Dwarfling again, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “I’m sorry if I woke you, I’ll leave you to sleep again.”  
  
Dwalin grunted. “I don’t even know when I feel asleep,” he said and glanced back into the room with a suspicious look on his face. “Those beds are too damned comfortable by half.”  
  
“Well, it’s not like we’d have to be on our guard,” Kíli said just as three sheep wandered by in the corridor. With three pleasant sounding _bah_ s they nodded their heads before continuing on.  
  
Dwalin and Kíli watched them go with the same wary look on their faces.  
  
“Though I could be wrong,” Kíli continued and shook his head. “But never mind that, I’m sorry I woke you and I’ll leave you alone.” Coward, he scolded himself as he began to turn around.  
  
“Not so fast there,” Dwalin said and caught him by the shoulder. “Why’d you come looking for me in the first place?”

“It can wait until the morning,” Kíli smiled in a way he hoped look reassuring. And he _would_ tell Dwalin everything in the morning, maybe that was better, then he could go hide outside afterwards and not just be forced to find a spot inside this house, no matter how large it was. (And if things went really badly, there was always the river. Maybe he could let it carry him all the way down to the sea. No one would ever find him there.)

“I think you’d better come inside,” Dwalin said and stepped back, pulling Kíli along. “Don’t think I can’t see that there’s something troubling you. Balin might have the sharpest eyes in our family, but mine work well enough.”

Kíli tried to protest, but his brain turned out to be really bad at coming up with excuses when it was busy going ‘he’s touching me, he’s touching me, he’s touching me’, so soon enough the door closed behind them both.  
  
-  
  
Dwalin told himself that it got easier not to think about Kíli after they’d actually set out on their journey,( but really he’d just moved on to thinking about the fact that he wasn’t thinking about him, which really was just the same thing wasn’t it?)

It _did_ get a bit easier to tell himself that he was being an old fool after seeing the way Kíli and young Ori interacted. True to his nature Kíli was often found hanging all over their young scribe, and Dwalin figured it wouldn’t take much for that friendship to bloom into something more. Ori was just the right kind of Dwarf for Kíli. Someone calm and smart, but without being meek. Someone who could temper the rasher sides of Kíli without dulling him.

And sure enough the two started spending more and more time together, and that helped, because Dwalin would never poach one someone else's treasure.  
  
Ori's brother semmed to have noticed the same thing Dwalin had because one evening  Dwalin had overheard Nori complain to Dori about how Kíli better not try anything. Dwalin hoped Ori’s brother wouldn’t do something to stand in the way of the two young ones, they would make such a fine pair. (Unlike Kili and a certain worn, grumpy, greying warrior…)  
  
-  
As Kíli entered Dwalin’s room he couldn’t help but notice the bed. The very comfortable looking bed with rumpled sheets that probably still smelled like Dwalin.  
  
Kíli quickly looked away.  
  
“So out with it,” Dwalin prompted. “Everything okay with your brother? With Thorin? Surely he’s not managed to put his foot in his mouth once again. The speed he’s going I’ll be as white as Balin before he and the Halfling figure things out.”  
  
The speech Kíli had rehearsed seemed to have been eaten by Wargs. His mind was completely empty (apart from the wish to just push Dwalin down on the bed and see if the salt and pepper hair peeking out from the half-opened laces of his shirt continued all the way down to his-)  
  
Kíli swallowed. That still wasn’t the right way to start. Only, what was the right way, he couldn’t remember.  
  
Dwalin frowned when Kíli didn’t say anything and he took a step closer. Close enough that Kíli could feel the heat coming off of him. That _really_ didn’t help him gather his thoughts.  
  
“So something really is wrong?” the large Dwarf asked. “Should we-“  
  
“Nothing’s wrong, exactly,” Kíli reassured, or tried to anyway. But the way his words only made Dwalin’s frown deepen it would seem he was not successful.  
  
“Let’s hear it then,” Dwalin said and crossed his arms as if bracing for an attack.  
  
Against better knowledge, because Bilbo’s lack of progress with Thorin clearly showed that the Hobbit was not to be trusted in matters such as these (but he was a very good listener nevertheless) Kíli breathed in, breathed out and then blurted:  
  
“I’m in love with you.” And then stretched up to press his lips against Dwalin’s.  
  
-  
  
Some might say that Dwalin was all brawn and no brains, but it didn’t take a scholar to figure out that when someone kissed you, it likely meant they were not interested in certain _other_ scholars (not even ones named Ori). Because Kíli really wasn’t the type to play with someone like that. Regardless of how carefree he might appear Dwalin knew him too well to think so poorly of him.  
  
When Kíli had come to him looking so troubled Dwalin hadn’t known what to expect as the underlying reason, but it certainly hadn’t been this.  
  
 _This_ was like expecting a yellow rock but realising it was actually pure gold. Like finding a shard of glass only to discover it was diamond.  This was-  
  
Kíli pulled back with a murmured apology, eyes downcast and mouth pinched, and Dwalin realised that he’d not actually done anything to return the shy press of Kíli’s lips.  
  
Quickly he wrapped his arms around Kíli. He might not be the smartest Dwarf around, but he wasn’t stupid enough to turn down something like this. Not when they both could have been killed just less than a day ago. Not when he finally could admit to himself that he hadn’t been happy at all with the thought that Kíli might love Ori. Not when Mahal himself seemed to be looking out for grumpy old warriors (perhaps there was hope for Thorin too).  
  
“And where do you think you’re going?” Dwalin rumbled and let one of his hands wander up to tangle in Kíli’s hair.  
  
Hope and wariness seemed to be at war on Kíli’s face, but as Dwalin bent down to press their foreheads together hope won out and the smile Dwalin received was blindingly in its intensity.  
  
“Nowhere?” Kíli said and pressed himself closer still.  
  
“Damned right,” Dwalin said and kissed him.  
  
_  
  
Kíli would never doubt Bilbo again. (And he would make sure his uncle stopped being an idiot, because Bilbo clearly deserved a reward for his excellent advice)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, when I first wrote Dwalin’s name I was soooo tempted to put [drumroll] behind it.
> 
> But there you have it. Hope all of you who cheered for Ori/Nori/Bombur/Others are not too disappointed by my choice. 
> 
> If you are, you’ll have some time to get over it before next update ;) But please, leave me a comment either way! Or prompts even, if you want me too cheer you up with shorter bit of Kíli/Ori/Whoever.


	26. You Say Potatoe I Say Potato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in Ori is Ori, Fíli is confused, Bofur is grumpy, Bilbo is oblivious (what else is new), Thorin is a boulder (okay, that is new), and Kíli and Dwalin are probably off snogging somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again and forever, thanks for all the lovely feedback for this story. Immensely appreciated.

“That’s not Ori,” Fíli said as he looked at his brother cuddled up to none other than _Dwalin_.  
  
“No, _that_ ’s Ori,” Bombur said and pointed to Ori, who gave a little uncertain wave of his hand before going back to eating. Despite the food in Beorn's hall having just as little meat to it as the food they'd been served in Rivendell, the addition of honey, cream and pies appeared to do a lot to sweeten Ori's disposition to the meal.  
“You know,” Bombur continued casually enough– though there was a smile twitching between his whiskers. “Judging by how much clothes you and my brother had on when I woke you I wouldn’t actually have thought he’d have shagged you silly last night, but-“  
  
 Bilbo - sitting next to Thorin and Balin,  promptly choked on his breakfast.  
  
(The breakfast, thanks to Beorn’s aversion to serving his guests meat, had _no_ sausages.  
Bilbo consequently did _not_ choke on a thick, fat sausage, much to the silent thanks of Fíli’s already scarred psyche. Bofur was _evil,_ the size-of-a-Dwarf's-boots gag would haunt Fíli to the end of his days...)

As Thorin pretended not to hover over the spluttering Hobbit, and Balin pretended not to be horribly amused by the not-hovering. Fíli did his best to ignore Bombur, and instead focused back on Kíli and Dwalin-not-at-all-Ori.

“I thought,” Fíli began, then realised that pointing out that Kíli just the night before had been professing his love for Ori perhaps wasn’t the best thing he could do. Obviously there must be _something_ he was missing about the whole thing. The very besotted gaze Kíli was currently giving Dwalin certainly seemed to hint at that. (As did the fact that Dwalin’s arm was snuggly wrapped around Kíli’s shoulders. And the fact that Ori seemed happy enough sitting next to them) It all seemed to point to the conclusion that-

“You also thought he favoured young Ori,” Dwalin said -sounding a bit uncomfortable, but not the least bit jealous, which Fíli figured was a good sign.  
  
“I, well, _yes_ ,” Fíli said, because he _had_ thought that.  
  
“I don’t see why you thought that,” Kíli grumbled and Fíli really was going to have to ask his brother what _he_ thought declarations of love meant. “No offence, Ori, but I'm not in love with you.”  
  
Ori – cheeks puffed out from shoving half a loaf of bread in his mouth – flapped his hands in a way that suggested indifference and shrugged.  
“Mmhmmph!” he added and nodded.  
  
“See,” Kíli said to Dwalin and Fíli as if that explained everything. “You’re both obviously delusional.”  
  
Dwalin and Fíli both looked at each other. Dwalin tilted his head in a vaguely apologetic way, but it was clear from the way his arm around Kíli tightened that he wasn’t at all sorry that he’d been mistaken. Fíli sighed.

“Never mind,” he said and took a seat by the table. “I’m happy for you both though,” he added before starting in on his own breakfast.  
  
Kíli beamed at him and Dwalin grunted something. What exactly Fíli had no idea, but he interpreted it as something along the lines of ‘I'm sorry for saying he was in love with Ori, and I will never make your brother cry again, I didn’t even know I was doing it in the first place’. 

About ten minutes later Bofur entered the hall, eyes half-lidded and hair standing every-which-way.

“My hat,” he grumped to Fíli who - realising that he _did_ actually still have Bofur’s hat on – quickly returned it to Bofur. Bofur muttered something rude-sounding before putting on the hat and turning to leave.  
  
“But, breakfast?” Fíli asked, again a bit confused, because Bofur was usually fairly chipper in the mornings - and hungry.

“But, bed!” Bofur called over his shoulder just as he was passing through the doorway. “An actual _bed_ , without stones, sticks and insects.”

Grumpy or not, that was a valid point actually. Fíli rose to follow Bofur back to the very nice and private room, where the very nice and comfortable bed resided, only to be collared by Bombur.  
  
“He’s just going to yell at you if you don’t let him sleep,” the large Dwarf explained. “Actually _sleep_. Doesn’t happen all that often, but when he wakes up like that best you can do is just let him go back to bed. He’ll be back to normal sometime this afternoon.”

A bit dejectedly Fíli sat back down again. Apparently not even Bofur could be cheerful all the time. Fair enough really, but very bad timing of it to happen just now. Waking up in a bad mood seemed to  be much more apt for days spent running from Orcs, but then again, that did tended to be a downer on _anyone’s_ mood anyway.  
  
“Probably shouldn’t have taken his hat though,” Bombur murmured and went back to stuffing his face.  
  
After breakfast Fíli cornered Thorin to get some information on just what had happened before Bombur had woken him.  
  
Kíli and Dwalin had scampered off (well, Kíli had scampered, Dwalin had done something a bit more dignified) before Fíli had even finished eating, so the questions he had for his little brother would have to wait. (With the way the two had been looking at each other he was _not_ about to go looking for them.)  
  
Cornering Thorin on the other hand took no effort at all as he was still frozen in the exact same spot he’d been in when _Bilbo_ had excused himself from breakfast. To be fair to Thorin, Bilbo’s choice of words to explain his departure might have been a bit… ambiguous...  
  
“I’ll see you all later I expect,” their burglar had said as he’d hopped down from the wooden bench. “I’m going to see where Óin disappeared to.”  
  
“Is your wound troubling you,” Thorin immediately queried, and Bilbo sighed.  
  
“My _wound_ , is just fine,” Bilbo assured with frankly admirable patience and actually pulled away the collar of his shirt to show the bite as a peace offering. Fíli noted how his uncle’s eyes glazed over a little as Bilbo’s neck and collarbone came into full view and he hurriedly looked down at his breakfast before losing his appetite for it. This was proven to be useless as Bilbo’s next words made him look up in horrified surprise.  
  
“No, I actually wanted to see if he managed to hang on to any oil, or grease even,” Bilbo said unconcernedly as he adjusted his shirt. “I’m going to need _something_ slick what with all the grinding I’m going to have to do today. I already asked Gandalf and he said he’d help, and that Beorn certainly would have the stones for it. So I just need to prepare first.”  
  
He paused and looked a bit mournfully at his shirt.  
  
“Perhaps it’s lucky this is already such a mess,” he said and fingered one of the many stains that had gathered on the once white fabric during the course of their journey. “It’s been a while for me, but I distinctly remember this being a very untidy sort of affairs.”

Then Bilbo had scurried away, leaving them all speechless. Even _Bombur_ looked quite shocked. Balin looked about as disturbed as Fíli felt (quite a lot), and Thorin… the less said the better.  
  
“I’m _sure_ the lad didn’t really mean that the way it sounded,” Balin muttered and stretched to pat Thorin’s shoulder.  
  
Thorin made a very decent imitation of a boulder, unmoving and unspeaking.  
  
Fíli wasn’t sure how _he_ thought it had sounded in the first place, but he would do his best to forget it nonetheless. Bilbo and grinding and slick, just, _no_.  
  
After Thorin had kept his boulder imitation up long enough for Fíli to start worrying about his uncle passing out from not breathing, the blond Dwarf got up from his seat and joined Thorin on the other side of the table. Maybe a change of topic was in order.  
  
“So,” Fíli said and nudged his shoulder carefully against Thorin’s. “What did Kíli and Dwalin say before I came in? They’re courting now I take it?”

There was no answer. Fíli looked over Thorin to Balin who blinked a few times as if to clear his eyes before meeting Fíli’s.

“Indeed they are,” he said with a small smile. “I was here when they declared their intent before Thorin. “ Balin’s smile turned a little less strained and a bit more real. “It’s good to see my brother so happy, he’s-“  
  
“I will _kill_ that Man if he so much as-“ Thorin bellowed, and about here Fíli and Balin both grabbed Thorin’s arms before he could go find Beorn and do something _everyone_ would likely regret. 

One of the ponies milling around in the hall whinnied impatiently and trotted off. Not long after two more ponies appeared and between themselves they had a complaining Óin.  
  
“I’ve already eaten,” he more or less yelled into the ear of the pony to his right. The pony traded an annoyed look with his fellow horse, but persisted in buffing Óin along into the hall.

“Crazy animals,” Óin muttered as they left him standing by the table, giving him a pointed glare before walking off again. “Probably _good_ we’re not eating them, Mahal only knows what sort of diseases are rotting their-.”

“Óin,” Fíli shouted, partially to get the healer’s attention, partially because it was hard to talk normally when he was forced to use most of his strength to ensure Thorin remained seated.

“What is it, lad?” Óin said crankily. “I was in the middle of something.”

“Did Bilbo ask you for oil just now?”

The frown on Óin’s face deepened.

“Yes, can you believe the gall of our burglar,” the healer huffed out. “As if _my_ methods are not good enough for him. Asking the Wizard for help, hmmph.”

This statement did absolutely nothing to calm the vein that was ticking away on Thorin’s forehead.  
  
“It’s not called an _ointment_ just because it’s an appealing name,” Óin went on, oblivious to the muttered curses coming from his king. “I just don’t see why he thinks any _salve_ of his will be any better, but at least Gandalf might stop him from preparing anything poisonous. _Might_ I say, because Wizard or not, I’m not sure he really knows his plants. That Radagast fellow seemed to be a bit more in touch with nature.”

Óin went on for a bit about how he hadn’t even any oils left in the first place and how everyone knew that the only real cure for bruises was garlic, butter and vanilla, but Fíli stopped listening when he realised Thorin had stopped trying to storm off to threaten their host with bodily harm.

“Ah,” Balin muttered. “Our Hobbit did say he was going to prepare something to help with our bruises.”  
  
Fíli slowly let go of Thorin's arm and tried too look innocent. Nope, no one restraining their king and uncle around here, you must be mistaken.  
  
Bombur snickered.  
  
"Well, either way it seems he's intent on relieving swelling and stiffness."

Fíli sighed (again) and threw a loaf of bread at Bombur's head. The way this day was shaping up it was probably best to go and find a quiet place to hide. Somewhere far away from uncles and hobbits and perhaps also away from Bofur until the other Dwarf had enough time to catch up on his sleep.  
  
With that idea in mind Fíli went to find one of the ponies. Surely they'd know of some hide-away spot free from double-entendres.  
  



	27. You Say Tomatoe, I Say Please Leave Me Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in Fíli just would like some privacy but it's not really happening. There are interesting discussions about eggs, and Bofur has stopped being grumpy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, work is still stealing (all right, not stealing as I do get paid) a lot of my time, but stick with me. I promise this will get finished.

It turned out ponies had no clue what really counted as private. Figured really, what with them being pack animals and all. With the sheep it was pretty much the same.  
  
When asking about where to find a _private_ spot, away from bees, brothers and bruises (oh, and Bombur), all Fíli got in returned was a confused stare and a _bah_ \- or a neigh in the case of the ponies.

He had better luck with one of the rabbits who at least seemed to understand the _concept_ of alone-time. The fluffy little thing had twitched one ear at him before scuttling off, stopping to wait for Fíli every time the Dwarf started to fall behind.

The rabbit turned out to be a most upstanding little fellow and took Fíli to a very nice spot beneath two oak trees. It was pretty near the main house but still out of view due to an abundance of green-leaved bushes acting as a divider.  If one were to lie down on the soft looking grass Fíli figured it would be almost impossible to be seen without the other person basically stumbling over you first. And as there were no flowers around there were no bees around to accidentally sting you.  
  
In other words, it was pretty close to perfect, and as Fíli thanked the rabbit he did feel bad about possibly having eaten some of its distant relatives the day before. Though just as with the horse, and the dogs (and even the sheep) there was a light in the rabbit’s beady little eyes that Fíli couldn’t ever recall seeing in an animal before.  
  
So he didn’t swear off rabbits for the rest of his life, just the ones smart enough to wave at your with their ears before running back to the house they apparently lived in.  
  
Kíli had been entirely right, this place was strange - but better strange and comfortable than the normality of running from Orcs, Fíli mused as he lay down on the indeed very soft grass.  
  
The breakfast, despite certain conversation topics, had been very pleasant and filling and Fíli soon fell into a light doze. But before he could sink deeper into sleep he was abruptly pulled back by a voice calling his name.

“There you are, lad!” Balin called out as he rounded one of the bushes. “I thought I saw you come this way, and my eyes rarely deceive me.”  
  
“Balin,” Fíli acknowledged, trying desperately to think of a (not disrespectful) reason why the older Dwarf really should go back to the house and leave him alone.  
  
Balin settled on the ground next to him and started going on about Dwalin and Kíli and how lovely the whole thing was and why couldn’t Thorin just pull his head out of his arse (Balin phrased it a bit more diplomatically, but the sentiment was there) and own up to his feelings towards their burglar.  
  
Being by himself had made Fíli realise that for the past months he’d never really had any privacy at all. _None_.  
So while he might care for Balin much like a second uncle, Fíli wasn’t really in the mood for gossip and matchmaking. If Thorin and Bilbo hadn’t sorted themselves out before they were to leave this place Fíli would just have to resort to plan B and locking them in a room together for the final night they’d spend beneath Beorn’s roof. That was his plan and he was sticking to it.  
  
Finally, after almost ten minutes of trying to look interested, Fíli had an excuse.  
  
“Ori was looking for you earlier,” he told Balin when the other Dwarf stopped to draw breath. “He said something about wanting to know more about the library in Erebor?”  
  
“And such a fine library it was,” Balin said with a wistful smile. Fíli, sensing that Balin might lapse into an epic story at any given moment, hurriedly interrupted.  
  
“Exactly,” Fíli said and raised himself on his elbows so he could look Balin in the eyes. “I don’t think he quite understands just how many books were kept. He said something about hundreds I believe.”  
  
“Hundreds!” Balin spluttered. “There were _thousands_ of books, scrolls and volumes. I can only hope that oversized lizard hasn’t burned them all down.”  
  
“ _Perhaps_ I was mistaken about Ori's belief,” Fíli murmured, his tone of voice clearly implying that perhaps he was _not_.  
  
“I should go set that boy straight at once,” Balin said as he rose to his feet. “ _Hundreds_ , by Mahal, there were hundreds of books just concerning the proper way to braid your beard.”  
  
Muttering about how today’s youth clearly had no grasp of their culture anymore, Balin stormed off, leaving Fíli to once again sink back into the grass, this time with a self-satisfied smile on his face. He felt a bit bad for Ori, but really, once Balin stopped going on about all the things wrong with anyone born in the last hundred years, they both would enjoy the discussion of books that would follow. With a sigh Fíli closed his eyes and again listened to the sweet sound of nothing.  
  
But only a short while later his peace was once again disturbed.

“FÍLI! Where _are_ you, lad?”  
  
It was Glóin, probably wanting to discuss axes. Or Gimli. Or Gimli and axes. And if Fíli wasn’t much in the mood to listen to Balin go on about both their families than Fíli definitely wasn’t in the mood to listen to Glóin go on about _his_.  
  
Quick as a rabbit chased by an Orc Fíli rolled himself beneath one of the bushes. Leaves and twigs poked him both here and there, but Fíli managed to keep his lips from uttering a few choice oaths. This proved quite fortunate indeed as Glóin’s boots then came into view, coming to stop only a few feet from Fíli’s head.  
  
“Not in the house, not here,” Glóin murmured and Fíli caught himself nodding his head. Definitely not here. “Or was he back at the house? Blasted big thing it is, could I have missed him?”

No Dwarf had ever mastered telepathy (such trickery was best left to the Elves), but Fíli gave it a good try. Glóin should indeed go back to the house. Perhaps Oín would be happy to listen to the next chapter and verse about Gimli’s Amazing Adventures And Astounding Antics. He was not only the boy’s uncle, he was also mostly deaf, so it probably wouldn’t hurt him. So Glóin _should go back._

“Fíli!” Glóin bellowed a final time before his feet moved away.  
  
Not taking any chances anymore Fíli remained beneath the bushes. It seemed to work pretty well, because it was almost an entire hour of quiet before-

“Brother?”  
  
Kíli. Not that Fíli particularly wanted to think about it but shouldn't Dwalin be keeping him too busy to go around disturbing a certain handsome older brother who just wanted a chance to hear himself think?  
  
Sighing Fíli rolled out of the bush. Why did he have to be such an awe-inspiring brother. He was sure most other brothers would just have ignored Kíli, would not have cared that the tone of his voice suggested there was something on his mind.  
  
“Down here,” he called and waved a hand when Kíli’s head turned towards him.  
  
“Why were you-? Never mind,” Kíli interrupted himself. Heaving a huge sigh he flung himself down on the ground next to Fíli.  
  
“Would it be called a Dwobbit, you think?”  
  
“What? Would what be called a what-now?” Fíli asked, confused.  
  
“If Thorin and Bilbo had children, they would be part Dwarf and part Hobbit. A Dwobbit.”  
  
“Have you been talking to Gandalf?” Fíli said wearily. Not that he’d mind knowing for sure if cousins were an option or not, but still, if that Wizard starting blowing birds at them again he would _not_ be responsible for his actions.  
  
“No, no, I just wondered. Dwalin wanted to go talk to the dogs about supplies for when we continue on. And when we got to the kitchen there was _puppies_!”  
  
Kíli sounded all of thirty years old when he exclaimed the last word.  
  
“So because dogs have puppies, Bilbo must be able to have children?” Fíli couldn’t quite see the connection. But in either case-

“You can't call the poor thing a Dwobbit,” Fíli continued. Kíli snorted.

“Yeah, well you try it then. It’s not like Horf is any better.” Kíli rolled his eyes. “It sounds like a _disease_. Like you’d say, I got a bad case of the Horf.”

“I got a bad case of Dwobbits,” Fíli tried it out. “Sounds a bit like the measles actually,” he said and wrinkled his nose.

“You think we should just ask him?” Kíli wondered, clearly meaning Bilbo.

“What they’d be called?”

“No, if he even _can_ have little what's it's.” Kíli looked a bit shifty. “If he can, then, shouldn't he you know, _bleed_. And get angry. Like Mum.”  
  
Their company had a distinct lack of plates for Bilbo to break, but from their experience in Hobbiton it didn’t seem like Bilbo really was the type to appreciate the sound porcelain made when thrown against a wall anyway.

“He _can_ get pretty annoyed though,” Kíli continued. “But that’s more often than once every moon.”  
  
“You’re forgetting something,” Fíli interjected. “Surely he hasn’t got the parts for any Dwobbits – or _Horfs_ – to come out of. We’d seen them when we bathed at the springs.”

Kíli held up his hands. “I've not taken a particularly close look as I want to live. Thorin would not appriciate us oogling his Hobbit.”  
  
“I don’t need a close look to confirm that his bits dangle,” Fíli said and shoved his brother into the bushes.  
  
When Kíli didn’t immediately come crawling back out again Fíli stuck his head between two branches to see what the hold-up was. Kíli was lying flat on his back, a pondering expression on his face.

“You don't think…” he hesitated.

“What?” Fíli demanded and brushed away a ladybug that had landed on his moustache. He hoped the insects wasn't intelligent as well, because trying to avoid stepping at ants would get annoying very quickly.

“Maybe _all_ Hobbits have dangly bits? How would we know?”  
  
This was actually a fair point. How _would_ they know?  
  
“He hasn’t got any breasts,” Fíli argued. “Some of the Hobbits we saw definitely had breasts.”  
  
“Not that anyone was looking,” Kíli said and waved his hand, almost hitting Fíli’s nose.  
  
“Not that anyone was looking,” Fíli agreed and settled down beside Kíli beneath the bush. The hide-away was a little cramped for two, but after shoving Kíli a bit further in, they both fit well enough. Which was good, because this was turning into the sort of conversation you _really_ didn’t want to have any witnesses to.  
  
“Not all animals actually feed their young like that. _Birds_ don't.”  
  
“Hobbits do not lay eggs,” Fíli stated firmly even though there was a sneaking suspicion in the back of his mind. (Could this have been what Gandalf’s smoke-birds had been about?)  
  
“They might lay eggs. It would explain why there's so many of them,” Kíli said stubbornly. 

“But where would the egg come from? Fíli said. “It’d have to be a pretty large egg!”

They both winced.  
  
“I think I’m going to see if Dwalin is done,” Kíli said after they both had been quiet for some time, and he crawled over Fíli. “I’m sure _he’ll_ think Dwobbits is a better word than Horfs.”  
  
“I don’t think Horfs is a better word,” Fíli protested and swatted at Kíli's head. “I don’t like either of them.”  
  
“You think of a better one then!” Kíli huffed as he walked away.  
  
Annoyed Fíli flicked a leaf. _Brothers_.

-  
  
The next Dwarf to come wandering by was Nori. Sneaky as always, Fíli didn’t even notice the thief was around until someone lightly kicked his boot.  
  
“Could I interest you in a little wager?” Nori asked as he knelt down beside the bush. Fíli admired the way Nori treated the fact that Fíli _was_ inside a bush as normal, though at the same time he was a bit wary about what that said about the company Nori usually kept.  
  
“A wager about..?” Fíli wondered.  
  
“About just when our courageous King and blushing Burglar will actually fess up to each other about their feelings. Of course, the only condition is that you’re not allowed to interfere directly.”

Fíli thought the matter over. Locking them inside a room probably – most definitely – counted as interfering.  
  
“Thanks but no thanks,” he told Nori, who nodded.

“Thought that might the case. Which is why my money is on them getting their heads straight _before_ we leave for Mirkwood. Be that from their own actions or be it from another’s.”

“Just admit to having a weak spot for romance, Nori,” Fíli grinned. “I know Ori is not the only one reading those horrid stories about star-crossed lovers who fall in love at first glance.”  
  
“I have no weak spots,” Nori sniffed. “And I’m sure I don’t know what stories you are talking about.”  
  
“Sure you don’t,” Fíli nodded, or tried to. When lying down nodding was more about pressing your chin to your chest in an unflattering way than anything else.

With another kick to Fíli’s boot Nori disappeared again. How he did it Fíli could not have told you, but suddenly he wasn’t standing there anymore.

-  
  
The fifth time Fíli heard steps getting closer (okay, fourth since he’d not actually heard Nori) he considered that crawling _inside_ one of the bushes might be an option. Just being beneath them obviously wasn’t working. So it was either that or climbing one of the trees. Or tracking down the rabbit and his kin and seeing if they could perhaps dig him a hole. If they did him that favour Fíli _could_ be convinced to never eat rabbit again.

As the boots come into view Fíli - to his immense relief, realised they belong to Bofur. If there was anyone he wanted to be alone _with_ , it was Bofur.

It was quick work to stretch out a leg for Bofur to trip on, and then pull the surprised (and more awake looking) Dwarf beneath the bush.  
  
“What have I told you about making me fall on my arse,” Bofur scolded good-naturedly once he’d realised what had happened.

“My apologies,” Fíli murmured and let his hands wander to that exact part of Bofur’s body. “It is a very nice arse, I should take better care of it.”  
  
“That so?” Bofur said and kissed him.

“You should know that this spot may _look_ private, but it’s anything but,” Fíli warned when they parted. Bofur was now pressing Fíli down into the grass, his sturdy body a comfortable warm weight anchoring Fíli to the ground. Not _entirely_ comfortable though. There was a certain intriguing hardness that was poking Fíli in the stomach.  
  
“Uh huh,” Bofur said and fitted their lips together again, one of his hands coming up to tangle in Fíli’s hair to better angle his head.  
  
“I mean it,” Fíli groaned when they next had to breathe. “Any minute Glóin could come wandering back looking for someone to regale with his stories about why Gimli is even _better_ than the next incarnation of Durin the Deathless.”  
  
“Sounds... distracting,” Bofur said, sounding a bit distracted himself.  
  
Fíli _really_ could understand that feeling. Bofur had clearly come straight from breakfast because he tasted of honey and the almonds from the bread, and he _felt_ even more delicious when he wriggled his entire body against Fíli’s.

“Well, Glóin didn’t actually find me the first time either,” Fíli said and started unbuttoning Bofur’s shirt. “So maybe-“

“Fíli!”

It was Kíli. Again.  
  
Fíli pressed his face into Bofur’s neck.  
  
“Would you tell him I’m not here?” he mumbled.  
  
“Not sure that’d be very convincing,” Bofur laughed, which made his body rumble against Fíli’s in a most _stimulating_ way. “You’re a bit shorter than me for sure, but you’re not that small. Pretty sure he’ll notice you.”  
  
“ _Fíli_! Bilbo has _eggs_! _Huge_ eggs!”  
  
“Bilbo has eggs?” Bofur repeated bemusedly. “I don’t see why-“

Fíli almost kneed Bofur in a very sensitive place in his rush to get out of the bush. Surely Kíli was mistaken, because, well, if they were _Bilbo's_ eggs, and not just eggs, then they couldn’t be _Thorin’s_ , could they? And by the way, _eggs_ , as in several eggs at once?  
  
Outside the bush Kíli was almost bouncing, looking a mix between terrified and elated, and within moments Bofur was left beneath the bushes to confusedly stare after the two brothers. 

“This way,” Kíli said and ran off towards the back of the house. As they rounded the corner Bilbo came into sight, and the Hobbit was indeed carrying eggs. One in each hand - tucked against his chest protectively, and each egg big almost too big for Bilbo’s hands to grip them properly.

“Eggs!” Fíli hissed to his brother.  
  
“I know!” Kíli hissed back. “Idiot!”  
  
Just about then Bilbo noticed the two young Dwarfs staring at him, or rather, at the eggs.  
  
“These are _my_ eggs,” he told them, and Kíli excitedly elbowed Fíli in the side. “You can-“

Suddenly flock (a pack? a herd?) of rabbits ran across the path, over and between Bilbo’s feet, and it was enough to make him stumble, made him _drop_ one of the eggs.

“Nooo!” Kíli shouted, looking horrified.

Bilbo blinked.

“If you want an omelette that badly I can go back and get some more eggs for you too,” the Hobbit offered.

“Omelette?” Fíli asked, shooting a glance at his brother who looked a little green. (Green was _not_ a good colour for Dwarfs to be)

“Oh, do you like yours scrambled? Or just boiled?” Bilbo questioned.  
  
Kíli was definitely looking a bit green know, enough that Bilbo noticed as well.

“Is this a cultural thing again?” Bilbo asked warily and took a step back. “Like with the cheese? It's not bad just because it’s gone mouldy, it's just _different_. And you can eat eggs. Just get rid of the shell first.”

“We _know_ you can eat eggs,” Fíli explained, silently adding, _we just weren’t sure if you laid them or not_. The absurdity of that thought made Fíli struggle not to laugh (hysterically).  
  
Bilbo looked sceptical.  
  
“That’s a big egg,” Bofur remarked as he sauntered up to them.  
  
Fíli shot him an apologetic look, hoping to convey ‘I’m sorry that my brother’s idiocy is contagious, I’ll make it up to you later’. Thankfully, at least some of it seemed to get across, because Bofur curled his arm around Fíli’s waist and gave him a squeeze.  
  
“It is indeed,” Bilbo nodded. “And if you want one, there are plenty more where that came from.”  
  
“Our host must have some mighty big hens,” Bofur mused.  
  
“You should have seen his cock-“

 Thorin, who just rounded the corner of the house stopped as if he’d been hit by lightning.  
  
“-erel,” Bilbo continued, oblivious to Thorin’s presence - and Thorin’s repeat performance as a boulder. Fíli let out a sigh and pinched Bofur when the Dwarf started laughing helplessly.  
  
“It’s too late to change your mind,” Fíli murmured. “As I said, you’re stuck with me, so you’re stuck with them.”

“Mahal help me,” Bofur smiled and tightened his arm around Fíli. “I’ll just have to try and stomach it somehow.”  
  
Speaking of, Kíli was still looking down at the mess the dropped egg had made, looking more than a bit queasy.  
  
Later that day, during supper, Fíli was extremely _not_ surprised when Kíli turned down the poached eggs.


	28. Interlude - An Eggstraordinary Morning Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the author makes up a bunch of facts regarding herbal remedies (don't try this at home kids!) and Bilbo hangs out with dogs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fairly long Bilbo POV for those of you who like that kind of thing :) (Part One!)  
> For those of you who don't particularly care for this, well, um, there are puppies? And swishy puppy tails? Everyone likes that surely.

Bilbo feared he would _never_ understand Dwarfs. Every time he’d thought that this, _this_ would be the day where no one did anything strange, or looked at him as if _he_ were the crazy one when he did something ordinary (like asking for a handkerchief) , his companions would always be sure to prove him wrong.  
  
Their first day at Beorn’s home definitely turned out to be no different.  
  
When Bilbo had asked Óin if he’d had any oil, or grease, left that could be used to prepare a salve the Dwarf had acted as if Bilbo had asked him to cut his beard off.  
  
It was almost enough for Bilbo to take offence in turn on his mother’s behalf. Belladonna may not have been a healer by trade, but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t known a thing or two about easing pain and curing ills. With a son always running off to go looking for Elves (and falling out of trees) she’d certainly needed to know how to help heal bruises or there’d have been even more talk amongst their neighbours (accompanied by shifty, _nasty_ glances).  
  
Not that it would have bothered his mother overly much as she’d never been too concerned about what other people thought, but Bilbo’s father surely would have put an end to Elf-hunting if it would have led to wagging tongues.  
  
Dwarfs seemed less inclined to gossip. Not that Bilbo had much evidence for that conclusion, but if they _were_ inclined to tattle about every little thing that stood out from the normal then he was pretty sure Thorin would have had a few choice words for him about the folly of falling in love with a king (especially when you were nothing more than a burglar at best, a _grocer_ at worst).

Bilbo had never considered himself a shallow type of person. Oh, he wouldn’t deny that there were some features that drew his eyes more than others, but in the end it was the inside of a person that _truly_ mattered. His certainty in this had really done his head in at the start of their journey when he’d realised he had manage to fall for someone who had acted no more civilized than your average Sackville-Baggins. (In other word, someone who acted like a petty _jackass_.)  
  
Only the fact that Thorin was a Dwarf could be counted as a mitigating factor on the shallow scale (crossing race lines was surely not shallow?) but the truth of the matter had been that Thorin was handsome (with that face and those _eyes_ – Bilbo had always had a soft spot for blue eyes), and very nicely put together, and a jackass. ( _Grocer_ , pfft.)  
  
Of course, then the Dwarf had to go on to prove himself not only brave and honourable but surprisingly kind as well, and Bilbo had resigned himself to a ending their quest with a broken heart.  
  
(After Bofur’s description of dragons it seemed unlikely that any other body parts actually would be broken, burned maybe, but not broken).

Anyway, once again, as a snorting and muttering Óin stomped off, Bilbo resigned himself to never be able to fully grasp the nature of any of the Dwarfs.  
  
The dogs having a late breakfast in the kitchens were a lot more helpful. While they hadn’t any grease apart from butter they offered him a whole pot of honey to use as a base.   
  
Honey could be used to keep wounds from getting infected, so while it perhaps was a bit more sticky a solution than Bilbo would have _preferred_ it was not a bad one, so he thanked the dogs profusely (but carefully, not knowing if the term ‘good dog’ would cause offence or not). A large golden-brown dog with very kind eyes then showed him to a corner where a set of grinding stones could be found, and after a quick trip back to his room to get the plants, Bilbo was grinding away at stubborn roots and squishy leaves and stems.  
  
It was easy enough work, but made a bit more troublesome since the kitchen turned out to have an entire litter of puppies running about and wanting to stick their noses into everything. While the adult dogs seemed to be extraordinary intelligent the pups seemed to be just as any other young ones. In other way a danger to themselves and everything (and everyone) around them. (When this thought crossed Bilbo’s mind a certain dark haired young Dwarf named Kíli also made a brief appearance.)  
  
The night before when they’d stopped outside the hedge Bilbo had carefully put away the herbs and plants he'd collected. Partially in case this Beorn fellow had anything against the slaughter of greenery as well as animals, but mostly because of the many animals that had been begun gathering around them. Wolfsbane might look pretty, but it was not a good thing for a sheep (or anyone; _including_ puppies) to eat, and Bilbo would rather not have that on his conscience.  
  
Not to mention that the enormous, dangerous-looking man Gandalf then introduced him to certainly would have taken great offence to the death of one of his friends (even if Bilbo didn’t want to eat them).  
  
Beorn turned out not to be so bad when he stopped scowling at you, or perhaps it was just that Bilbo would forgive just about anyone if they fed him as an apology. But what Hobbit _wouldn’t_ after months of just three meals every day, and that was three meals at _best_.  
  
Though, with the narrow escape he’d made down in the caves perhaps it was lucky his belly was a bit less rounded than it had been back in the Shire. Shame the buttons on his waistcoat still hadn’t made it.  
  
Just one measly little button remained, but that somehow made the whole thing look _worse_ , (like he was the type of person not to _care_ that just one button remained) so the waistcoat was a finished chapter until he could get his hands on some new buttons.

 On the whole their journey had been very hard on Bilbo’s clothes. His jacket had never quite been the same after all that Troll-snot, and the less said about the colour of his shirts the better. The state of his trousers were tolerable, but the sooner they got a good wash the better. But that would be something best left for later. As he’d explained when finishing up his breakfast; grinding plants had a tendency to be messy work, and that was even discounting bringing oil (or honey) into it.  
  
Gandalf briefly stopped by the kitchens to give some advice on ratio; before going off to do what Bilbo had termed as Wizardly business (this business included - amongst others: random acts of disappearance, pipe smoking, and timely rescues) but as the last thing Bilbo wanted to do was poison anyone he would have been very careful with the Wolfsbane anyway. It was a good way to ease pain when your skin was mottled with bruises, but a little went a _long_ way.  
  
“No thank you," Bilbo said when one of the puppies swished its tail in the shredded Yarrow. "This is not something that requires puppy tails and even if it was some kind of potion I'm hardly the kind of person to ask for puppy tails. I don't even know if there _are_ any Hobbit witches. The whole business with eye of newt and lizard tongues seems most… horrid."

When he’d finished with the Yarrow Bilbo asked the adult dogs to _please_ make sure the puppies stayed away as he would now prepare the Wolfsbane. The dogs all made a huffing sound similar enough to a laugh that Bilbo interpreted it as such, and all five grown-up canines each picked up a pup by the scruff of their little necks.

After the leaf was ground and soaked in honey (done to the background noise of whining puppies who couldn’t understand why the small round person didn’t want to play with them anymore) Bilbo put the plate on the highest shelf, well out of reach for any young-ones, regardless of species. (Except maybe whatever Beorn could be counted as, the Man towered even over Gandalf and was easily thrice as wide as Bilbo).

 When Bilbo was about half-way done Dwalin and Kíli came in. They couldn't see him as his little corner was a turn or two from the kitchen’s main area, and of course Bilbo couldn’t see them either, but Kíli’s delighted cry of: " _Puppies_!" was pretty unmistakable. As was Dwalin's low rumbling laugh.

 Dwalin appeared to have stopped by the kitchens to talk to one of the dogs (the dog obviously wasn’t talking back, but they did seem to have some back and forth going on somehow as Dwalin kept asking new questions) about non-perishable food and Bilbo hoped that wasn’t a sign they’d be leaving the very next day. It’d be nice to stay at least a couple more nights.  
  
Waking up that morning had been one of the few times since April that Bilbo had woken rested, warm, and comfortable. There’d been no snoring Dwarfs, no mysterious noises (the snoring might be annoying, but it was preferable to something suddenly going _RAWR!_ in the middle of the night) and no sudden attacks by anything. Not even mosquitoes.

The only thing that could have made it better was if he hadn’t woken up alone, but if wishes were cakes then no one would fit into their Hobbit-holes (let it be unsaid if that’d be from too much cake inside the _holes_ or too much cake inside the _Hobbits_ ).  
  
Dwalin though; there was one who - going by the amount of Kíli glued to his side during breakfast, and his presence in the kitchens, hadn’t woken up alone.  
  
Bilbo had an inkling that no one called Dwalin cute to his face and lived to tell the tale, but the way the two Dwarfs had acted during breakfast; as if being even an inch from each other was too far away, couldn’t really be described any other way.  
  
Bilbo was extremely happy for Kíli, having known how unhappy the young Dwarf had been when he thought his feelings were unrequited. The Hobbit hadn’t really expected the object of those feelings to be Dwalin, but as they both seemed happy enough about it, it obviously was a well-suited match. Thorin hadn’t seemed upset either, something which had relaxed the stiff set of Dwalin’s shoulders.

Of course the fact that both princes now had male lovers was a bit of a disappointment. Or perhaps _disappointment_ wasn’t the right word. It was just that if both of Thorin’s heirs were unable to have heirs of their own, then surely Thorin himself would have to marry someone who most _definitely_ wasn’t a male Hobbit from the Shire in order to continue his line.  
  
Bilbo wasn’t fooling himself (he knew it was hopeless), because if becoming Thorin’s lover was an unlikely scenario to start with, then being Thorin’s blasted _queen_ , was an impossible one for sure.  
  
When one of the puppies buffed his leg and another pawed questioningly at this trousers Bilbo realised that he’d stopped working as he’d been too lost in his own thoughts.  
  
“I’m all right little ones,” Bilbo said softly to the fluffy brown pups.  
  
Almost at the same time Kíli spoke as well.

"I'm gonna go find Fíli," the prince said and there was a soft sound of lips meeting. Bilbo sighed, and one of the puppies whined a little. A dog Bilbo figured was the mother came by to give Bilbo a questioningly look, but the Hobbit forced a smile and shook his head.  
  
“Just being foolish,” he explained. The dog tilted her head as if asking _why?_  
  
“Probably because no one has told me to stop yet,” Bilbo said quite honestly.  
  
Unless Thorin flat out told him to stop being a silly little Halfling Bilbo figured his heart would never realise its folly.  
  
His father used to say that hope and dreams wouldn’t keep your pantry filled, but then again he’d also been fond of saying that while there was life there was hope. A bit contrary to be sure, but what else could be expected of a Baggins marrying a Took.

When all flowers were mush and laid to soak in the honey, Bilbo discovered that as he had expected, his shirt had some fresh stains. One pups also had a green spot on its head, but a swift lick from its mother took care of that.  
  
Bilbo definitely needed to wash his clothes but that would be a task left for later because as it were, all that grinding had left him in the mood for a second breakfast. This was excellent as he now actually had a chance to have one.  
  
The honey would need a while to rest before he could filter the remaining bits of plants out of it and since he was already down in the kitchens it was a prime opportunity for another meal.  
  
If he had been back in the Shire Bilbo probably would have fried a slice of ham (or three) or some bacon, together with eggs and tomatoes, and perhaps some potato cakes. Oh, and toast with jam and butter. Maybe a few cinnamon rolls to top everything off. But sadly, the pig related parts of his second breakfast would have to be skipped.

Dwalin had left the kitchen when Bilbo was still cleaning up the mess he’d made, so when Bilbo walked back out to the main area (the five puppies milling around his feet and almost making him trip) there were again only dogs gathered in the room.

“Could I trouble you again?” the Hobbit politely inquired. This whole talking to dogs business seemed less weird the more you did it, just as the whole being-on-an-adventure-thing really.

While there was no delicious piggy-parts to be found there was a henhouse, full of both the biggest hens and the biggest eggs Bilbo had ever seen. The hens were jovial enough when they realised Bilbo was not out to kidnap any of the yellow balls of fluff that ran around outside, but the rooster kept shooting him suspicious glances and scratched at the ground in a vaguely threatening manner. As it was just as big as the hens Bilbo quickly got two eggs (two was all that would be needed for a pretty sizeable omelette) and made a hasty get-away.

Then the second ‘Dwarfs are crazy’ moment of the day came when he was walking back to the kitchens and Fíli and Kíli stared at his eggs as if they’d never seen anything like them before. At first he thought they were only hungry, but the way Kíli looked when Bilbo accidentally dropped one of the eggs (damned rabbits, not he’d have to go and face that cockerel again) suggested that hunger was pretty far from his mind.

Then Bofur showed up only to collapse from laughter (there was nothing particularly funny about the size of that cockerel; the spurs on its feet had been huge!) and Bilbo resigned himself - once again to never being able to understand Dwarfs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two will probably include some Thorin POV. Haven't written it yet, so who really knows!


	29. Interlude - An Eggstraordinary Morning Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's self-control is put to several tests, and Bilbo makes an awesome puppy-sitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As long as work keeps on being a bit difficult with me there's a good chance that most weeks will look like this one. Ie several updates on the weekend, but slim pickings during the week. We'll see I guess. :)
> 
> As always, comments are treasured and thanks for reading! :D
> 
> (And yup, changed the chapter title slightly)

Thorin’s morning could have been going better. It _should_ have been going just marvellously as his company was not only safe and being cared for, (albeit by a pack of dogs and ponies – and the occasional sheep and rabbit), but his youngest nephew had also announced his and Dwalin’s courtship which was happy news indeed.  
  
The king had been in the middle of breakfast when the two had arrived; hand in hand.  
  
It had been a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, and it had been quite amusing to see Dwalin look so nervous. His face had betrayed none of his worries, but for any who knew him the truth was plain to read in the stiff stance and the way his empty hand had curled into a fist.  
  
 _But_ , the hand tangled together with Kíli’s had been steady and sure, and when Kíli had clutched at it, Thorin had noted that Dwalin had gently squeezed back. That really said all that needed to be said as far as Thorin was concerned. If both Kíli and Dwalin were happy then he was happy for them. In time such as these every bit of happiness needed to be guarded as safely as certain Dragons gaurded their gold.  
  
But from there things had started to go downhill.  
  
When his- when _Bilbo_ had excused himself from breakfast Thorin first hadn’t understood what he was hearing, and as the words had sunk in he was ashamed to admit his reaction had been anything but fitting for a king. Especially when it turned out to be a misunderstanding (assuming is yet another thing that is not something kings should occupy themselves with, Thorin was, uh, working on this one).  
  
The rest of the morning Thorin busied himself with taking care of his armour and weapons, and if no one said a word about Orcrist not actually needing sharpening ( _ever_ , as the blade was of Elven make)… well, that was probably for the best.  
  
Eventually Thorin couldn’t rightfully go over his armour another time, but his mind felt calm and clear, so he ventured out of the room that had been so graciously shown to him the night before by a pony, and went past the empty main hall and out into the sunshine.  
  
What he needed to do was to find a way to show Bilbo his appreciation, to somehow thank him for what the Hobbit had done for them so far. (And should this grand gesture – whatever it would end up being Thorin did hope it _would_ be grand - spark the idea in Bilbo’s mind that a certain king would be suitable for a courtship, that was just a bonus)

Thorin had no riches to gift to his- curse it, _their_ burglar, but he had the conviction that perhaps that was just as well.  
  
(Again, was a shame because something inside Thorin buzzed happily at the image of Bilbo covered in gold, particularly if the gold was the only thing the Hobbit wore.)  
  
He _could_ offer to give Bilbo more lessons in sword fighting, though perhaps that was a poor reward. Perhaps it was even more of a reward for Thorin himself as it would help keep Bilbo safe, _and_ give Thorin the chance to touch him when correcting his stance and grip. Not that he would abuse that in anyway, in fact he probably _wouldn’t_ touch the Hobbit at all (because what if he couldn’t stop?) but just knowing that he _could_ touch, that Bilbo would not shy away, it would be... enough.

Outside the house Thorin could hear Fíli and Kíli’s voices so he followed the sound, and as he came closer he could also pick out Bofur’s and Bilbo’s voices.  
Perhaps this would be a good opportunity to mention the idea of more lessons.

It wasn’t.  
  
Let it be said that Thorin _did_ learn from past mistakes. This time when his ears could not believe what they were hearing he merely told them to keep _listening_ , and at the same time telling his feet to keep walking. Of course it was hard to keep walking when all he wanted to do was to turn around and find Beorn and then ignore all rules of kingly protocol (it was extremely bad form to kill one’s host), so the result of those conflicting wishes was that he completely froze between one step and the next. Listening _did_ work a bit better, so the freezing was only temporarily as Bilbo's words again didn't carry the meaning they first appeared to have had. Unfortunately the freeze lasted long enough for Bilbo to disappear.  
  
With a sigh Thorin turned around and went back to the main entry to the house. Perhaps he missed some rust on his armour earlier. It was probably best to check again. And when he was done his mind would perhaps again be calm and collected and not filled with the desire to maim someone just because his, _their_ (by Durin’s _Hammer_! He had no right to claim Bilbo as his own, so it would be most helpful if his mind realised that before he actually did it out loud), _their_ Hobbit was too oblivious (innocent?) to know what he was saying.  
  
The idea of Bilbo being too innocent to understand _why_ his words might cause confusion both thrilled and horrified Thorin. The thought of being Bilbo’s first, (his _only_ ) set Thorin’s blood on fire, but at the same time it made him want to immediately tell Gandalf to get those birds to return and take the Hobbit back to the Shire where Thorin would not be able to do _anything_ to him. The Hobbit was _far_ less fragile than his appearance suggested, but what _if_ Thorin managed to hurt him. He wanted Bilbo bad enough that his teeth ached with the greed of it, what if that meant that he could not control himself _if_ he was allowed to touch? First times were never perfect, but...  
  
Hmm, maybe Fíli could take over the sword training. The boy had always had a more delicate touch. (And he also did not dream about the little bit of skin revealed at Bilbo's throat. At least, he better not.)  
  
When Thorin next ventured out from his room (his armour had never been cleaner) he almost stumbled on Bilbo who was asleep on the floor in the middle of the main hall, five puppies snoozing away on top of him. One of the small dogs lifted its head when Thorin walked in, but once it had registered that the Dwarf wasn’t a threat it settled back down on Bilbo’s stomach. Eyes closed, and seemingly still asleep, the Hobbit’s hand came up to stroke along the puppy’s back, making it sigh happily.  
  
Right. If there was one thing kings absolutely did not do it was molesting sleeping Hobbits who was just too adorable and delectable for words, so Thorin would just be going back to his room again until sometime the next Age. (Yet another thing that wasn't fit for a king was being jealous of a damned dog.)  
  
-  
  
Having survived getting another egg, though one of the hens had given him a very reproving look, Bilbo could soon treat himself to a lovely second breakfast. Sure, if he’d been back in the Shire that breakfast could have included bacon, but then again he would be missing out on certain other things.  
  
Bilbo actually ended going back to the hens one more time as he could not turn down the five pairs of puppy-dog eyes that had kept staring at him during his meal. Not knowing if dogs preferred their eggs raw or cooked he’d stared a bit helplessly at egg until one of the dogs took mercy on him and nudged him towards the frying pans.  
  
Feeding the pups might have been a mistake as they then took to following him around in the hope of getting more treats. Bilbo had always liked children, but he was a bit more accustomed to less furry ones. Though, as it turned out, the puppies were just as interested in listening to him tell fairy tales as his young cousins were.  
  
Always in the mood for a good tale Bilbo brought the puppies into the main hall where he arranged a couple of the rugs into a comfortable little nest. The main hall was just shouting distance (or barking distance) away from the kitchen should anything happen  – what exactly _could_ happen Bilbo didn’t know, but bringing the puppies all the way to his room felt like taking a too big of a gamble.

The puppies began dozing off after the second story, but Bilbo took that as a sign of them being just little ones, and recently fed at that, and not as any slight on his storytelling abilities.

Bilbo himself thought that a little nap would not be out of the question. It was very soothing to feel five rapid, but steady, heartbeats against his chest and sides, as well as the slow ins and outs of their breathing. He only hoped that his host would not be offended if he would return to find that his hall had been slightly rearranged.  
  
The Man had been mysteriously absent ever since the night before, and the continued lack of his presence at breakfast seemed to suggest that he was inclined to continue to be somewhere else. It sure proved how much he trusted his animal friends, Bilbo mused as he stroked a finger down one silky puppy ear. Relying on them to handle the sudden arrival of more than a dozen strangers, regardless of if they proved themselves to be honoured guests or merely trouble.  
  
Speaking of trouble, he _should_ check on how the honey infusions were coming along, but it’d be a shame to disturb the pups. If they were anything like his cousins they wouldn’t sleep very long anyway before they remembered that there were too much mischief still left to be done in the world to have time to sleep.  
  
Some time later Bilbo was woken by a cold nose against his cheek.  It was the golden-brown dog. Her kind brown eyes seemed to smile at Bilbo just the same as any Hobbit could have done, and he found himself smiling back. All the pups were still asleep, so either they hadn’t been asleep for very long, or they’d been asleep for long enough that their parents had gotten worried about the silence. (This was another thing his young cousins had thought him, as long as there was _noise_ , everything was all right. It was when everyone went silent you had to worry.)

“Time to get up?” Bilbo asked and tried to stretch without disturbing anyone. Bit hard actually since one of the puppies had settled in the crook of his left arm.  
  
The dog (did they have names? Names they could somehow _tell_ him? Bilbo was getting tired of calling them by nothing but their species) nodded and bent her head to pick one of the puppies up. As if that had been a signal four other dogs appeared (only two were the same as the one he’d met before in the kitchen) to each collect a drowsy puppy.

Arms finally free Bilbo stretched them out above his head and winced a little as the movement pulled at his rather sore muscles.  
  
It wasn’t worse than the time he’d decided to move all his books to a different room, and as falling down a mountain definitely was more hazardous he considered himself to be quite lucky.  
  
Yawning, Bilbo got up and stretched himself out some more. Then he placed the rugs back where he’d found them and went to check on the honey. Everything was coming along nicely so he just stirred the infusions around a bit, all but the Wolfsbane which he mixed some more honey into. (Even though he’d only used a single leaf, just touching the tip of his finger to the sticky liquid made his skin tingle and then go numb.)  
  
Carefully replacing the dish high up on the shelf Bilbo looked around the now empty kitchen. It was a bit early for luncheon, and he had the feeling he slept right through the Elevenses so he merely grabbed a couple of apples and went to look for Ori. If he was going to wash all his clothes he would need to borrow something else to wear in the meantime. Ori was just about his own size, so if Bilbo offered to wash his clothes as well perhaps he could lend Bilbo a shirt. If he still had any to spare with him.

Bifur, Bombur, Balin, Dori, Nori, Óin and Glóin were all just outside the house on a grassy plot, playing some sort of game with the rabbits and one of the ponies.  
  
Bilbo observed them for a minute or two and the goal seemed to be for the Dwarfs and rabbits to get across the stretch of the grass to the pony who stood at one end with its back turned towards the rest of the players. But when the pony turned to face them, all competitors had to act like Trolls seeing the sun and freeze on the spot until the pony turned its back once again.  
  
Balin was currently balancing on just one leg, trying desperately to keep himself from swaying too much as that would mean having to go back to the pony-less end and start anew. Seeing the old Dwarf so caught up in a child’s play brought a smile to Bilbo’s lips. Once Hobbits got past middle age it seemed everything turned so serious, for both good and bad. He was only 50 himself, but since he’d always been a bit precocious perhaps it wasn’t surprising that he’d already started to slip a little too far into comfortable (and seriously boring) routine.  
  
Gandalf had been entirely right to question just exactly when plates and doilies had become so important to him.

He missed his home, he did, but when they weren’t running for their lives being on an adventure was rather nice. (And home wasn’t just a place, or things, home was where you belonged, and perhaps the whole of him didn’t just belong in the Shire anymore...)  
  
Declining to join the game, Bilbo smiled at his companions, his _friends_ , before continuing his search for their wayward Scribe. As both couples had also been absent from the game he could only hope that he didn’t accidentally stumble over one of them. But where was Thorin? He hadn’t seen the Dwarf since breakfast.  
  
Had he also declined to join in the game? It did perhaps seem a little silly to the stoic king, the act of suddenly freezing up like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it’s not already obvious, I’m ignoring the hell out of the book's details of their stay at Beorn’s.  
> (For example, I think Beorn only had four dogs stay with him in the book.) 
> 
> I’m very much guessing Peter Jackson will take certain liberties, so I’m pre-emptively doing the same thing. Well, not exactly the same thing I assume, as I’m not a movie-psychic. (But if Martin Freeman ends up in a puppy-pile, you read it here first!)
> 
> I hope I'm not being too mean to Thorin. I do love him so. *giggles* But I think he's going to snap soon. Not really a bad thing though. But next bit will be hopping back to Fíli I think. We have to see if he and Bofur ever get some alone-time.


	30. Say It With A Flower - Or On One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli broods just as skilfully as any other Durin, but Bofur is too awesome (um, ridiculously lovely?) to let him do it for very long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to all of you still reading this, and all of you who have just (or well, over 60k words ago) stumbled upon this.

As an exasperated Bilbo walked back to the henhouse to again brave the wrath of the feathered fiends Fíli tightened his arm around a still snickering Bofur.  
  
Bofur looked ridiculous; hat askew, tears still pooling in the corners of his eyes and face red and splotchy from laughing so hard, and Fíli loved him so much it _hurt_.  
  
His chest felt not unlike when a certain Goblin King had landed on it, but somehow in a _good_ way.  
  
Like the way his muscles could ache after a day spent by the forge, or spent practicing using his blades. It would be painful, but it was a welcome ache because it meant good things; like a fine dagger or finally mastering a new move. Bofur was _definitely_ a good thing.  
  
But the very fact that it was a good ache made some other part of Fíli twinge dully. Partially because there was a risk that one, or both, of them would not make it out of this quest in the same shape as they began in. And partially, _partially_ because Fíli was afraid that loving Bofur this much made him unfit to ever take over as king after Thorin.

If Erebor had never been lost, then Fíli; born and raised as a prince, would likely never have met Bofur who would have been one miner amongst the many hundreds - if not thousands, of other miners found in Erebor. So part of Fíli, a horrible selfish, greedy part of him, was _grateful_ that Erebor had been lost, however much that thought also shamed him.

There was no power in Middle-Earth strong enough to change the past, but _if_ there had existed such a power Fíli hoped that he would have used it to stop Smaug ever coming near Erebor, even if that would have led to a Bofur-shaped hole in his life. But hoping was _not_ knowing, not at all, and therein lay the shame.  
  
It shouldn’t matter that the very idea of living without Bofur made Fíli want to crawl into a hole and never come back out again. As heir to the throne he should be able to know that regardless of his own feelings he would always do the right thing , because what manner of king would he one day become if he was not able to put his own wishes aside for the good of the people?

Kíli had been staring morosely down at the crushed egg but he’d made a hasty (green tinged) getaway when one of the dogs stopped by to lap at the yolk, and Thorin had disappeared behind the house again, leaving Fíli and Bofur alone – except for the dog.  
  
But the dog didn’t care when Fíli cupped Bofur’s cheeks and tried to crawl inside the other Dwarf tongue-first. (The dog might already be used to the strange behaviour of these short beings that smelled like metal and stone. Besides, _licking_ : not that weird if you’re a dog.)

“Now where did that come from?” Bofur asked when they had to stop to breathe, his forehead pressed against Fíli’s and his breath hot against Fíli's skin. “Not saying that I mind it, but need I start wondering if you like eggs just a-”  
  
“I love you.”  
  
It was only after saying the words that Fíli realised that he actually never said them before. Not like that. He’d said he was in love with Bofur, but he hadn’t said those three words before.  
  
That was inexcusably stupid of him, so he said it again, and again, and again against Bofur’s lips as he kissed him over and over. (The dog finished with the egg and wandered off wondering if those were the only words the blond one knew.)

“Come on,” Bofur finally said and pulled Fíli towards the front of the house. Fíli followed, clutching Bofur’s hand perhaps a bit too tightly.  
  
They did not go inside, instead Bofur led Fíli to the hedge and to the wooden gate they’d entered by the day before.

“Bees,” Fíli protested and stopped because he could already hear the humming outside the hedge. “There’s bound to be a lot more of them now that it’s day.”  
  
Even if they had been normal-sized bees Fíli wouldn’t have been particularly interested in becoming a Dwarven pincushion, and as it were, their stingers had to be the size of the switchblade he had tucked into one boot. If he and Bofur were going to do something that perhaps required undressing (that last kiss certainly seemed to hint at the possibility) then Fíli _definitely_ did not want any bees around to stab at sensitive parts of them.  
  
“Bifur told me that one of the dogs told him that Beorn has a trick for dealing with the bees,” Bofur said as if that sentence actually made sense.  
  
“One of the dogs _told_ him?”  
  
“Apparently their paws are well suited for something close enough to Iglishmêk,” Bofur smiled. “Don’t ask me how it works, but if they can lay the table and cook, why not this as well?”  
  
“Why don’t we just go back to the house?”  
With the very nice beds, Fíli added silently, still trying not to be too pushy.  
  
“One,” Bofur said and held up a finger. ”Because that’s where both your brother _and_ your uncle likely slunk off to, and two,” Another finger popped up. “I could hear Glóin sing in his room this morning. Through the wall.”  
  
“Uh huh?” Fíli said, having become a bit distracted by the way Bofur’s lips was a fair bit redder and more puffy than normal beneath his moustache.  
  
“Put those things together and you’ll end up with just about as much privacy, or lack of it, as we had beneath the bushes,” Bofur explained. “That is, if you want to continue where we left off before your brother started going on about eggs.” Bofur snickered. “Still, that may just have been worth it, the look on Thorin’s face.”  
  
“If we _are_ to pick up where we left off,” Fíli said and took Bofur’s hand. “ _Please_ stop talking about Thorin.”  
  
“How about cockerels?” Bofur asked innocently.  
Ignoring Fíli’s groan he pulled him the final few feet to the gate.

On the other side of the hedge the buzzing was even louder.  
  
“Bifur and that dog better know what they were talking about,” Fíli muttered as they stood on the edge of a field of red clovers and white daisies. “So, what do we have to do? Disguise ourselves as flowers? No wait, that’d just make them more eager. Disguise ourselves as bees?”  
  
“Just how would one go about doing that?” Bofur teased and put his arms around Fíli. “You are pretty golden and fluffy but-“  
  
“ _Fluffy_!?”  
  
“Well what do you call this then,” Bofur said as he ran his hands through Fíli’s hair. Which was not _fluffy_ , thank you very much. There was just a bloody lot of it.  
  
“Hair,” Fíli said, trying not to arch into the stroking hands. Instead he kissed Bofur again.  
  
It was a win-win. It both kept the other Dwarf’s mouth too busy to talk, and it meant kissing Bofur, which was something Fíli happily could do for the next ten years or so (with breaks for food and for when nature called. Sleep? Over-rated).  
  
“And such golden, fluffy hair it is,” Bofur murmured against his lips, green eyes twinkling maddeningly and Fíli could _feel_ him smiling, feel how his lips stretched in a grin.  
  
Growling Fíli bit down on Bofur’s lower lip, only remembering the way Bofur had reacted when it was his neck that had been bitten when Bofur’s eyes suddenly darkened.

“Maybe it’s time you saved us from the bees,” Fíli said hoarsely, surprising himself with how rough his voice was.

“Hmm,” Bofur replied staring at Fíli’s mouth; it seemed it was his turn to be distracted.  
  
“Bees,” Fíli prompted again when a couple of the large insects started to come closer. “I really don’t want to end this morning with Óin digging stingers out of me.”

“Right,” Bofur still sounded a bit unfocused, which admittedly made Fíli feel pretty good about himself.  
  
Bofur took a deep breath before starting to… _sing_?  
  
 _Bees, Bees, busy Bees,_  
 _Buzzing in the flowers swaying in the breeze_  
 _Buzzing wherever and whenever they please_  
 _But we mean no harm, so leave us in peace_  
 _Bees, Bees, busy Bees_

Yup, Fíli definitely was in love. He still wanted to sleep with Bofur even after hearing him sing that awful excuse for a song. (Though the idea of their host doing the same was pretty amusing.)  
  
The two bees that had started to fly towards them slowly drifted away again. _Huh_ , apparently bees had excellent taste in music and wanted to stay far, _far_ away from anyone who’d dare sing such nonsense. Not that Bofur didn’t have a good voice, but still.

“Come on then,” Fíli said and took Bofur’s hand. “If we get in the middle of the field no one is going to be able to even find us, much less disturb us.”  
  
Bofur had to sing the song twice more to get rid of curious bees, but Fíli distracted himself by thinking about the feel of Bofur’s hand in his own; warm and slightly rough, and soon enough they stood in the middle of the field. The clovers where large enough to go to reach Fíli’s waist, with the daisies being a little taller still.  
  
Except for the bees and the sound of their own breathing everything was quiet. Perhaps a little too quiet.  
  
Fíli _really_ didn’t know how to phrase his thoughts in a way as to not make him sound either too eager (please, please, please take off your clothes), or too flippant (so, come here often?) so instead he decided to tug off Bofur’s hat only to throw it on the ground.  
  
“Woops,” he said unconvincingly when it landed. “I better get that for you.” Which he of course didn’t. Instead Fíli flattened about two dozen clovers as he lay down on top of them. “Second thought,” he said to Bofur. “Perhaps you need to come get it yourself.”  
  
Bofur just shook his head, but he did kneel down on the ground next to Fíli, so Fíli was counting his plan as a success.  
  
“A Dwarf could start to think that you don’t like his hat,” Bofur said and plucked a clover out of Fíli’s hair. “Then again, you did steal it from me just this morning.”  
  
“Last night, actually,” Fíli confessed. “But that’s your own fault for falling asleep.”  
  
“I’m not sleeping now,” Bofur breathed and bent his head enough that Fíli could close the last remaining distance between their lips. For once the hat was _completely_ forgotten by Bofur who dropped it when he needed both hands to brace against the ground as Fíli pulled Bofur to lie on top of him.  
  
It was a very, very nice thing Fíli thought, to have Bofur pressed against him from head to toe, but he soon realised it wasn’t very convenient. There was way too much cloth still separating them. A roll  and a twist had Fíli straddling Bofur’s lap instead. Much better.  
  
“I think we left off somewhere around here,” Fíli whispered as he started unbuttoning Bofur’s shirt.

“Why are you whispering,” Bofur whispered back as he started to pull at Fíli’s wrist guards. “Wait, why am _I_ whispering?”  
  
“Because we’re _hiding._ When you hide you have to whisper.”  
  
Bofur, annoyingly enough, had another shirt beneath his shirt. And then a new shirt beneath the shirt beneath the shirt.  
  
“How many layers do you have?” Fíli groaned and started on the next line of buttons. He was a bit proud that his fingers weren’t shaking with how much he _wanted_.  
  
“As if your buckles are any better,” Bofur complained. “Let’s switch. I do mine and you do yours.”  
  
“But it’s more fun the other way around,” Fíli said and waggled his eyebrows, then he swore as he realised he’d accidentally _buttoned_ two buttons again in his distraction. “Fine.”  
  
Of course seeing Bofur unbutton his own shirt(s) was pretty distracting as well. The more of Bofur’s chest that was revealed the slower Fíli’s work on getting rid of his own clothes went.  
  
It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen Bofur naked before. This far along the quest everyone had seen everyone naked several times. Fíli even knew way too much about how _Bilbo_ looked naked even though the Hobbit had a tendency to slink off when it came to washing (much to Thorin’s eternal disappointment _and_ relief –  his feelings were complicated…)

But even so, this was the first time Fíli and Bofur had been alone when the clothes came off. This was the first time he could touch all that lovely skin being revealed.  
  
Bofur’s shirts were now just hanging off his shoulders and Fíli reached out to stroke his hand down Bofur’s pleasantly muscled (not bulky, but very nice even so) chest, but Bofur caught his hand before it could make contact.  
  
“Ah, ah,” Bofur scolded teasingly and pushed Fíli’s hand away. “Your clothes should also come off. Then you can touch.”  
  
Mere moments later Fíli had pulled his shirt over his head. Laces and buttons, pfft, who needed them.  
  
“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Bofur grinned and slid his arms around Fíli’s shoulders.

“Or you could take me,” Fíli murmured as he wrapped his own arms around Bofur. Leaning in he pressed a kiss to Bofur’s neck, finishing with a nibble while at the same time grinding his hips down into Bofur’s lap.  
  
“I-“ Bofur’s eyes fluttered closed as Fíli repeated his actions against the other side of his neck. “I don’t have any slick. And for some reason I’m not feeling particularly inclined to go back to the house to ask if anyone else has got some.”  
  
Damn. Fíli hadn’t thought that far ahead either.  
  
“Later then,” Fíli promised. “But you might have to do it twice, just to make up for lost time.”  
  
“So I’m going to have to do all the work, am I?” Bofur said with mock outrage. Fíli wriggled out of Bofur’s arms to let himself fall back on the ground again.  
  
“I guess I can try and do _something_ to help instead of just lying there like a dead fish,” he said and stroked one hand down his chest to rest it at the edge of his trousers. It was very gratifying the way Bofur’s eyes followed the movement and Fíli took a moment to feel smug.  
  
“And what would that _something_ be then?” Bofur asked gruffly, bending down to press an open mouthed kiss to the centre of Fíli’s chest.

“I don’t know,” Fíli said and tried to look innocent. A pretty hard (no pun intended) thing to do. “Maybe I could… well, maybe I can hold you down and ride you until you scream loud enough that they’ll hear you back in Ered Luin?”  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” Bofur agreed before attacking (there was no other word for it) Fíli’s belt and trousers.  
  
After that everything went a little blurry, but it was a very happy and very sated Fíli who, sometime later, curled up beside a smug looking Bofur, who Fíli hoped was equally happy with how things had transpired.  
  
"I love you," Fíli murmured a tad sleepily and turned his face into Bofur's neck.  
  
"Love you too," Bofur said and stroked his hand through Fíli's hair. "So much I-"  
  
"Bzzzz."

Fíli looked up to see that a swarm of bees had gathered around them. Dozens and dozens of fuzzy buzzing insects appeared to stare down at their entwined bodies.

 Fíli sighed as Bofur began singing that horrible song again.  
  
There went the afterglow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, I’m a tease and I’m probably not going to have anything too explicit in this story. It doesn’t quite fit I think. (That’s what she said) If I’m ever in the mood I might do out-takes with higher rating.


	31. Communication 101 - Talking and Listening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again Bofur and Fíli absolutely excel at communication (while certain others completely fail, fail, and fail again for good measure. But more about that in the next chapter.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAH! First I updated the wrong story with this chapter. I rule. Oh well.
> 
> Peeps, this now officially more than 70k words and that is *insane*. I thought this story would be 10k at most, because I figured that would be the length needed to get everyone paired up and happy about it. Weeeeell…. That worked out great didn’t it?

As they walked away from the mood-destroying striped (possibly lethal, most definitely painful) insects Fíli still couldn’t stop himself from grinning stupidly. A loop of _Bofur_ , _Bofur_ , _Bofur_ kept repeating itself in his head and if he hadn’t been the dignified Dwarf he was Fíli most likely would have skipped the entire way back to Beorn’s house.

“You look all of twenty when you smile like that,” Bofur murmured and slung his arm over Fíli’s shoulder. “I feel like such a deprave old geezer.”  
  
“I can’t stop,” Fíli grinned. “But you can only blame yourself. Mahal, my cheeks are actually starting to _hurt_.”  
  
“Could we try and avoid Bombur until you’ve stopped?” Bofur suggested. “One look at you and he’ll tease us for the rest of the day.”  
  
“Maybe we could give the bushes another go,” Fíli giggled, erm, _chuckled_. He was dignified, dammit.  
“Or if you want to try and be quiet we could always try one of our rooms, I suppose,” he added and nipped at the lobe of Bofur’s ear.  
  
“I was quiet as a mouse,” Bofur protested and shook Fíli’s shoulder lightly.  
  
“A really loud one,” Fíli teased. “But it would be nice to have a bed. It’s silly, but I pictured our first time in a bed, but this was _great_ , I have no complaints,” Fíli added as he didn't want Bofur to think a field of flowers was good enough. The bees he could have done without, but the rest had been just perfect. Even the not-perfect parts.

“It’s not silly,” Bofur smiled. “It’s lovely; you’re so lovely even when you’re completely daft.”  
  
“Maybe the field didn’t count as a first go though. I mean, we did have a deplorable lack of anything slick.”  
  
“Aye, I seem to recall that part,” Bofur said and scratched thoughtfully at his chin. “And something about you wanting to ride me until I screamed. How unfortunate, that’s not very quiet at all.”  
  
“I can think of a thing or two that would shut you up,” Fíli murmured and pressed himself to Bofur’s side. “We can work something out.”  
  
“I’m not walking by the entire company with a bloody stiffy,” Bofur protested when Fíli’s hand started to wander southward.  
  
“The bushes it is then,” Fíli grinned, but he settled his hand back around Bofur’s waist.  
  
“As I a way to preserve what little dignity I have left, allow me to change the subject,” Bofur said, not sounding as playful anymore. “We do need to talk about what was bothering you before you kissed me behind the house, because that kiss wasn’t just a ‘ _hello you handsome Dwarf, how dashing you look in that hat’_. It was something else.”  
  
All of a sudden Fíli had no problem to stop smiling. Bofur could obviously tell the change in his mood, because he stopped and pulled Fíli into a tight embrace.  
  
“I just want to know if there’s anything I can do, or if I’ve done something already..?” Bofur said softly into Fíli’s ear.  
  
“I hesitate to say it,” Fíli said with a slight quirk of his lips. “But this is definitely one of those things where it’s not you, it’s me.”  
  
“That still sounds worrying if you want my opinion.” Bofur pulled back and stroked the tips of his fingers along Fíli’s jaw. “In the spirit of honesty, I can admit that I’m still waiting for you to come to your senses and realise that you can do a lot better than someone like me.”  
  
“Now who’s the daft one,” Fíli snorted. “No, I’m sorry, but it’s definitely your turn at it. As I only want _you_ I can hardly find someone better suited for that _than_ you.”  
  
Bofur’s smile might have been a little wobbly, but it didn’t matter when Fíli pressed a kiss to it.  
  
“It’s almost funny,” Fíli said wryly. “My _problem_ , such as it is, is that I fear I might love you _too_ much.”  
  
“You’ll have to expand on that,” Bofur smiled. “Because honestly I’m not seeing the problem yet. Or should I start worrying you’ll start to plot against my hat out of jealousy?”  
  
Fíli reached up to pull at the flaps. “I’d not worry about it, with the risk of sounding like the 20 year old you accused me of being earlier, and a soppy one at that, the hat is part of why I love you.”  
  
Taking a deep breath to fill his lungs with the smell of clover and Bofur, Fíli tried to work his feelings into actual words.  
  
“I’ve not yet said as much,” he began a little haltingly. “And you haven’t either, but I do hope this courtship will end in the traditional way once we’ve reclaimed Erebor.”  
  
“Is that an underhanded way of proposing,” Bofur asked, a little amused despite himself.  
  
“Is that an underhanded way of accepting?” Fíli shot back. “I do want to, marry you that is,” he added and looked away. “I can’t think of anything I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you, and that scares me a little. I’ve, we’ve only been on this quest for three months, and sometimes I forget that I’ve only known you for that long.”  
  
“I know what you mean,” Bofur agreed, looking a little lost. He sighs. “I think that’s why I keep telling myself that you might yet change your mind.”  
  
“I won’t,” Fíli said as firmly as he could with a heart beating madly in his chest. “I won’t, I know I won’t, but what if that means that I should tell Thorin that I can’t be his heir.”  
  
“And you’ve lost me again.”  
  
“One of the first things Thorin told me about ruling is that a good king always need to think of his people first.” Fíli shrugged and looked away again. “I think of you first, and I don’t think I can change that. I don’t think I want to change that.”  
  
“So what you mean is that you think you’ll put _me_ ahead of our people?”  
  
Fíli could only nod, not able to meet Bofur’s eyes.  
  
“There’s a really easy solution to that,” Bofur offered and cuped Fíli’s face to turn it back.  
Bofur’s eyes are very, very soft and very, very green. “You just have to trust me not to let you do that.”  
  
Fíli blinked. That was not something he’d been expecting.  
  
“Because I do hope you trust me,” Bofur prompted and pressed their foreheads together. Again, Fíli could only nod which just banged his forehead against Bofur’s in a pretty uncomfortable way. “So trust me not to let you do something you’re afraid of. And I can trust you to tell me if you’d ever changed your mind about us. Ah,” Bofur scolded when Fíli was about to protest. “I’d say it’s just about as likely as you somehow ending up in a situation where it’s me against a kingdom.”  
  
Fíli thought back on his highly unlikely scenario about turning back time and has to agree. On general principle if nothing else.  
  
“I love you,” he said (instead of talking nonsense about dragons). “I do trust you, and I do want to marry you.”  
  
“Well, I have to say that works out quite nicely for me then,” Bofur said before kissing Fíli.  
  
“That _was_ a yes, right?” Fíli prods when they part.  
  
“And we’re back to you being the daft one,” Bofur smiled and now it definitely was a bit wobbly. “Yes, of course it was.”  
  
Laughing Fíli wrapped his arms tight around Bofur and lifted him clean off his feet to be able to twirl around.  
  
"Definitely the daft one," Bofur said and slapped at Fíli's shoulder. "Now put me down."  
  
"But I'm _your_ daft one," Fíli protested and started to walk towards the house again. "Surely there are certain things you'll have to live with as a result of that."  
  
" _Surely_ one of those things aren't annoying brothers," Bofur snorted. "Put me down before Bombur sees us."  
  
Bofur was not exactly the lightest of Dwarfs, so Fíli _has_ to admit defeat and put him back down before they reach the house. A shame, because as it turned out everyone was already distracted enough by Bilbo and Thorin to pay them much notice at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I’ve not made it obvious before, this is an AU where Bofur, Bifur and Bombur all lived in Erebor before Smaug’s arrival. Thusly I’m screwing with both timelines and actual canon. YAY!  
> (Okay so I'm screwing with canon in several other ways as well, but it's all consensual, promise)
> 
> Not a lot of crack in this chapter, but these two needed to finally put everything on the table, and there’s some fluff as compensation. Sorry for it being short! But Dwarfs are also short, and we like Dwarfs, eh? I'll admit the ending is evil though.... mwahaha.


	32. Clothes Do Not Make The Dwarf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thorin tries to pull Bilbo’s clothes off and manhandles him, and Bilbo gets everyone to take their clothes off.  
> Also, there's lots of rabbits, but they're always naked anyway so who cares.

“What are you all doing?” Fíli hissed to Nori. “And where are your clothes.”  
  
“I really don’t mind,” Bofur said. “But did we miss out on an orgy?”

The company - missing one king and one burglar (and most of their clothes), as well as Fíli’s brother and Dwalin, were all sitting on the ground some distance away from the previously mentioned king and burglar, trying to seem like they weren’t lurking. Most of them failed.

A whole bunch of rabbits and one of their ponies were also around, but they did a better job of trying to appear uninterested in whatever it was that Bilbo and Thorin were doing.  
  
(Especially the rabbits who were mostly clustered around an annoyed-looking Glóin and an amused Balin. It would appear that the small balls of fluff thought they’d found kindred spirits in the two Dwarfs’ impressive beards)

Bilbo (clothed only in a large shirt Fíli recognized as belonging to Ori) and Thorin (the only one who was fully clothed) stood together by the biggest cauldron Fíli had ever seen, and Bilbo was poking something inside the cauldron with a stick. There was a fire going beneath it, so Fíli first assumed he was making lunch. But surely lunch shouldn’t smell like that…  
  
“And what are _they_ doing,” Fíli continued and gestured towards his uncle and Bilbo.  
  
“Bilbo is doing laundry,” Bombur, who was the only one who was completely naked, said cheerfully and bit down on an apple. “What Thorin is doing is anyone’s guess.”  
  
“Bilbo’s doing laundry?” Fíli repeated.

“He thinks we smell,” Dori said a little gloomily and plucked at his undershirt.  
  
“We do,” Nori said shrugging and started to peal his apple with a dagger he had pulled out of his hair. One of the rabbit sat by his feet with an eager expression on its face.

“I still say this is Ori's fault,” Dori muttered.

“How is it my fault?” Ori protested and looked up from his writing. The scribe was only wearing his underpants. “He just wanted to borrow a shirt and I let him.”

 “You let him wash _your_ clothes,” Dori accused. “What if my trousers _shrink_?”

“Lads, lads,” Bofur cut the brothers off before they could get into a fight. “You're not making any sense. “

Balin chuckled and crossed his arms over his bare stomach.

“Our dear burglar wanted to do some washing and decided that it would be insulting to not offer to wash all our clothes as well,” Balin explained. “And then he wouldn't take no for an answer.”

“He thinks we smell,” Dori repeated, still glum.

“Fine, that explains the clothing, or lack of it,” Fíli said. “But why are you all sitting around here for?”

“We have to see if anyone wins the wager!” Glóin said and poked one of the rabbits in its furry belly to get it to shift away a little. Nori smirked.

Fíli looked towards Thorin and Bilbo who were still looking down into the cauldron.  
  
“So why isn’t he washing Thorin’s clothes as well?” Fíli questioned. Thorin even had his coat on.

“Thorin just came out of the house,” Bombur snickered. “I say Bilbo is going to talk him out of his clothes, but sadly only to throw them in the pot as well.”

 “Oh, there he goes,” Nori remarked.

 Thorin had indeed removed his coat and was just beginning to unlace his shirt. Then he stopped, narrowed his eyes and started pulling at Bilbo’s shirt.

 Nori made a smug sound, appearing to think he’d be the winner of the bet within the next moments.

But Thorin hadn’t been overcome with desire for their burglar (thank Mahal, Fíli thought) instead…

 “ÓIN!” Thorin bellowed.

 “Our lord and king calls,” Óin muttered as he got to his feet. “No respect for his elders that boy.”

 A little (or a lot) against better reason Fíli decided to come along as well as Óin walked to where Thorin was now trying to get Bilbo to take off his shirt.

"He is mottled with bruises," Thorin said accusingly to Óin as the healer and Fíli joined him. "I thought you said that he wasn't hurt."

 "I am fine," Bilbo protested and ducked away from Thorin’s hands. “Nothing to see, please-“

 " _This_ is not fine,” Thorin said and spun Bilbo around so that his back was towards Fíli and Oín before pulling up Bilbo’s shirt. Bilbo let out what could only be described as a squeak and quickly pulled the shirt back down again. But that glimpse had indeed proved that Bilbo’s back did indeed look as if he'd been rolling around in blueberries.

 "It's fine, I didn't even know I had them so obviously-"  Bilbo flinched a little when Thorin gently touched his fingers to Bilbo’s right shoulder blade. The king quickly snatched his hand back.

"They pain you," Thorin said and crossed his arms over his chest.

"That's not, I mean," Bilbo looked flustered and Fíli sighed. Thorin had been too intent on the bruises to see it, but that had been _surprise_ not pain on Bilbo’s face.

"I just wasn't expecting you to touch me,” Bilbo blurted out. "And I've had worse,” the Hobbit continued. "I think this is me getting off very lightly. I did fall down the inside of a mountain after all."

"Hey,” Fíli snapped his fingers as he suddenly remembered. “You never did tell us how you got away from the Goblins.”

"I didn't?” Bilbo said and relaxed a little at the new conversation topic. “Well I can tell you all at dinner I guess. It's quite the story."

 “Can I go now?” said Óin with a look of someone who was suffering unspeakable torture.

 “No,” Thorin growled.  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” Bilbo said firmly. “Yes, thank you. I'm fine. I can just smear some of the honey infusions I made on it and it’ll-“

Oin huffed and stormed off.

 “Oh dear,” Bilbo muttered. “But speaking of that. It should be done soon, so when the clothes dry I can get you some for your injuries?”  
This was said to Thorin who uncrossed his arms to again try and pull up Bilbo’s shirt.

“And some for your own,” Thorin stated and glared at Bilbo’s bruises. Of course this looked pretty similar to what glaring at _Bilbo_ would have looked like, so Fíli decided to help out before someone who wasn’t Óin stormed off in a tiff.  

“You'll probably need help," Fíli said, aiming for innocently but landing somewhere south of the mark. "Uncle, you should help him out."

If looks could kill Kíli would now be the heir to the throne.  
  
Surprisingly it was Bilbo who was glaring daggers, Thorin just looked blank. Hopefully he wasn't doing a boulder impression again. But no, he _did_ appear to be breathing. The blankness wasn’t so much a result of Fíli’s words as much as it had something to do with how Ori’s shirt had risen very high on Bilbo’s thighs as it had gotten bunched up when Bilbo crossed his arms to better glare at Fíli.

"Just a suggestion" Fíli said and held up his hands. "Uncle probably needs some help as well. You could, help each oth-"

"Bilbo are you wearing Ori’s shirt and underwear?”  
  
“And what would _you_ know about Ori’s underpants,” Dwalin rumbled to Kíli as they joined them by the steaming cauldron.  
  
“These are _my_ underpants,” Bilbo bit out between clenched teeth tugged down what was indeed the hem of Ori’s shirt to again cover his behind.  
  
“Apparently I don’t know a lot,” Kíli said to Dwalin before peeking down in the cauldron.  
“If that is lunch I don't want any," he said with a distrustful glance down at clothes.

“That’s clothes,” Bilbo said and poked Kíli with the stick he’d been using to move the clothes around with. “So take yours off. And you three too,” he added with a look each for Thorin, Fíli and Dwalin. “Where’s Bofur?”

Bofur appeared to be playing tag with two of the rabbits. That or he’d decided to ignore the ‘no meat’ rule and was trying to hunt down supper.  
  
“I can get him,” Fíli offered, seeing a chance to get away.  
  
“Strip first,” Bilbo said and pointed the stick at him. “They’ll need to soak for as long as possible to get the Goblin out of them.”  
  
“We did wash ours at the river,” Fíli protested.  
  
“Yeah,” Kíli agreed. “I’m starting to think you just want to see us naked.”  
  
Dwalin snorted.  
  
“I just thought of someone who is not going to see me naked anytime soon,” Kíli said loftily.  
  
Dwalin snorted again.  
“Well, I’ve had the pleasure twice today already, so I’ll try and survive.”  
  
“I did not need to hear that,” Fíli moaned. Thorin looked inclined to agree. Dwalin shrugged one shoulder as if to say that he didn’t start it but he would finish it.  
  
Apparently deciding to set a good example Thorin sighed and began unlacing his tunic again. Fíli exchanged a glance with Kíli who shrugged and started to pull at his own clothes.  
  
A short while later a blushing Bilbo (he _always_ did seem to forget that once clothes came off that did mean that you’d end up naked) and four (mostly bare) Dwarfs joined the others. Bofur was sent to add his own clothes to the cauldron and he dashed off chased by two rabbits.

“I’m not putting my hat in,” he called over his shoulder.  
  
“Suit yourself,” Bilbo called back and started walking towards the house. “But at least pick try and get the grass stains out of it sometime soon.”  
  
Fíli knew exactly how that grass had gotten there and tried not to look too smug as he sat down.  
  
“Are you coming,” Bilbo said to Thorin when the king did not follow him. “We were getting the infusion?” Thorin nodded solemnly and followed Bilbo towards to the kitchen door with his coat folded over his arm. He'd vetoed putting the fur into the pot.  
  
“Shouldn’t you follow them,” Fíli asked Nori who now lay stretched out on the ground munching on his apple. “To see if you win the wager?”  
  
“Nah, I’ve recruited help,” Nori said and gestured at the two rabbits who sat on his chest munching on the apple skins. “Fellows, would you be so kind and let me know if there’s any ravishing going on in the kitchens?”  
  
The rabbits nodded and jumped off his chest before hopping off to the house.  
  
“Bribing rabbits,” Dori said and shook his head.  
  
“Exchanging favours,” Nori corrected his brother.  
  
The pony came over and snuffled at the remainder of the apple in Nori’s hand and Nori let her have it.  
  
“Bit big for a spy isn’t she,” Fíli pointed out.  
  
“Lad, since your uncle and our burglar have so far managed to ignore the Oliphant-sized cloud of unresolved sexual tension-” Fíli winced. “-d’you really think they’ll see a trim little pony such as this?”  
  
The pony preened and gave Nori’s braids a friendly nuzzle before trotting off.  
  
Dori let out a huge sigh which Nori ignored completely.  
  
Then two warm, bare arms snaked around Fíli’s naked shoulders and Bofur flopped down behind him.  
  
“Hi,” Fíli said and smiled in what likely was a disgustingly soppy manner (the snort coming from Kíli seemed to indicate as much, but it wasn’t like his brother was in a position to throw stones, that position being cuddled up to Dwalin)  
  
“Hello there,” Bofur said cheerfully and pressed a kiss to Fíli’s neck. “Where did your uncle run off to, we should have a word with him.”  
  
“He and Bilbo went to smear each other with honey,” Fíli grinned. “ _Hopefully_ we don’t want to disturb them too much. It can wait, it’s not like we’ll be in Erebor tomorrow.”  
  
“Why do you need to talk to Thorin,” Kíli asked and started braiding Dwalin’s beard. “What about Erebor?”  
  
Fíli looked at Bofur and now he was _sure_ he was smiling in a definitely soppy way.  
  
“We wanted to ask Thorin if he’d marry us when we reached Erebor,” Bofur said without looking away from Fíli, green eyes crinkling and twinkling and Fíli _had_ to give him a kiss.

After about five minutes of congratulations and backslapping Fíli and Bofur were allowed to settle down again.  
  
Glóin was looking especially teary eyed and Óin patted him comfortingly on the arm, almost hitting a rabbit in the process.  
  
“Weddings always remind me of my lovely Gimala,” he sniffed and fumbled in his non-existing trouser pocket for a non-existing handkerchief before he remembered that they both were in the cauldron. “How I miss her and our boy.” He picked up a nearby rabbit by the scruff of its neck and dabbed his eyes with it. With a horrified look the rabbit scrambled into Balin’s lap as soon as it was released.  
  
Sensing that a round of ‘Gimli the Amazing’ was fast approaching Fíli hurriedly changed the subject.  
  
“Has anyone seen our host at all today?” he wondered. “It’s a bit strange to run off as soon as you get company. And where is Gandalf?”  
  
“I think the Wizard again went to _scout ahead_ ,” Nori said and Bifur chuckled and made the signs for smoking, sleeping and scheming.  
  
“It’ll be strange not to have him with us,” Kíli offered. “I don’t like to think about how we’d gotten away from the Goblins without him.”  
  
“Bilbo said he’d tell us how he got away tonight during supper,” Fíli said and leaned back against Bofur. “That’ll be interesting for sure.”  
  
“So you think he’ll be around for supper then, lad,” Óin said. “What’s to say our burglar’s concoction don’t land them both in bed. I meant from being poisoned,” Óin growled when the rest of the company started snickering.  
  
Just about then a rabbit came running up to Nori.  
  
“What news?” the thief asked raising his head from the grass and the rabbit jumped up and down and twisted first its paws and then ears together.  
  
“That doesn’t look good,” Ori said with a worried look on his face. The rabbit shook his head and pawed at the ears of the rabbit lying by Balin’s knees until they were also twisted together.  
  
“Ah,” Nori said as he apparently realised what the rabbit was on about. “Thorin is braiding Bilbo’s hair?”  
  
The rabbit nodded and jumped up and down again before running back to the kitchens.  
  
“Hope you have your money available, lads,” Nori said to the rest of the company.  
  
“Did you _all_ bet against them sorting themselves out while we’re here?” Fíli asked a little surprised.  
  
“I didn’t,” Ori piped up.  
  
“And that’s why you’re the smart one in the family,” Nori said and tussled Ori’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we'll have a Bilbo Thorin interlude next, but we'll see. Should be a Kíli/Dwalin one as well sometime.
> 
> Those of you who haven't already, it's time to start placing your bets as well ;) Think our hobbit and his beloved will actually manage to sort themselves out soon?


	33. Interlude - The Proper Way Of Not Talking About Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As advertised this chapter includes honey, braiding and our king and his burglar still being clueless.

_Dear mother and father,_

_I wish I really_ could _write this letter to you, but there are a few problems with that notion._  
  
 _The biggest is that, well, you're dead. Sorry to be so frank, but there’s not really anything that can be done about it is there._  
  
 _The second biggest problem is that I've got neither pen not paper. (If I take Ori's he might just make me regret it, I know Nori has been teaching him all sorts of things not fit for decent company.) But even if I could write a letter, and you could receive it, I probably couldn't send it. (If I was able to find one of those Eagles again I don’t think they would take kindly to be used as letter boxes, no, not at all)._

_So this obviously isn't a letter, it's just something my mind decided would be a good stress relief; something to occupy myself with as I'm dabbing the Dwarven king with honey while standing in the kitchen of a Man who might as well be a Giant judging by his size._   
  
_Oh, and Mother, (I'm sure Father has fainted by now) I'm in love with him and we're both half-naked. The Dwarf I mean, ( the Man is Eru knows where)._   
  
_I never thought I’d fall in love with a Dwarf but it seems I most definitely have._   
_Thorin Oakenshield is his name. Son of Thráin, son of Thrór. King under the Mountain (more on this later)._

_Unfortunately we are half-naked due to reasons having to do with our clothes being dirty and filthy enough to make even an Orc (or at least a Goblin) take offence. (I won’t even mention the stains, but the worst of them are indeed Goblin related)_   
_And the honey? That's because Thorin is hurt and I offered to prepare something to help with the healing. (Yes, mother, I know it should be oil, but I had no oil.)_   
_I also had to ask Thorin to take off his shirt or I couldn’t apply it properly. Best thing that's happened to me today (even counting having a second breakfast for the first time in months) or possibly the worst. Still not sure._

_Thorin doesn't know I'm in love with him and that is actually good news as he's just barely stopped hating me. Or, perhaps not_ hating _me, but thinking of me as a waste of space, as someone who should have stayed in the Shire._

_You would likely approve of him, Father, the two of you seem to be just about as interested in the idea of me going on adventures._

_Too be honest though, he hasn't been all bad (would I be in love with him if that was the case? No, wait, not answer that). Really, he has been kind to me, at times. Making sure I'm warm, that I'm fed, that I know how to defend myself._

_Defend myself from what you would ask reading this part. And I would hope Father is now sitting down quite comfortably._

_We are on a quest to the lost kingdom of Erebor (Thorin's mountain) and might just get eaten by a dragon at the end of it... (Bofur still says it'll breathe fire on us until we’re nothing more than ash, but I don't know, if it’s not been seen for 60 years - and if it’s still alive - then it's got to be_ very _hungry.)_

_Bofur is also a Dwarf, and Ori and Nori too. There are nine more of them, and Gandalf is here too. (He would send his love to you mother, I'm sure. He seemed very fond of you when he was inviting Dwarfs into my smial. Yes father, he started it. I was not even going to go, but then I… went anyway.)_

_Together we make up Thorin's company and our goal is, as I’ve already mentioned, to reclaim Erebor from Smaug the Dragon. I’ve somehow been roped into being the Company’s burglar, but so far the only thing I’ve_ burglared _is a golden ring from the most horrid creature I’ve ever seen. And I didn’t as much steal it as I picked it up when he dropped it._  
  
 _No, no, I know how you both would be frowning at me now. I didn’t mean to steal it at all. I would have given it back, but it was hard to fit that in between him trying to eat me. (Another reason why I think the Dragon will try and eat us, so far it’s been somewhat of a trend, going as far back as those disgusting Trolls.)_  
  
 _The ring seems to be magical, as it managed to turn me invisible. No one knows about it yet as something always seems to happen when I’m about to tell them (starting to consider it being jinxed somehow), but maybe Fíli (one of Thorin’s two nephews, the other being named Kíli. Sweet lads both of them, but they’re more Tookish than any Took has ever been) will remind to tell the tale at supper tonight._  
  
 _Regardless of Dragons and the other dangers we have faced we are for the moment more than comfortable while staying with this Man called Beorn. This is our second day here and so far our host has admittedly not been around much, but his friends are taking good care of us. His friends are neither Men, Hobbits or Dwarfs (or even Elves – though I did get to meet Elves, mother!) but Dogs, Ponies, Sheep and Rabbits, but no less friendly for all of that._  
  
 _I hope we might stay here a while, not just because most of the others are sporting wounds and hurts similar to Thorin’s, (Yes, I made enough herbal infusion for them too) but also because I think it’s not just our bodies that need a little bit of rest. We’ll be next heading into Mirkwood (formerly Greenwood, and doesn't that change seem foreboding...), and I fear I might have been a little optimistic when I previously said that the worst was behind us (there is after all a_ Dragon _ahead)._  
  
 _But no matter what perils we face I do not regret that I came on this quest, this adventure. How many other Hobbits can say that they’ve gotten the chance to fight Goblins and Orcs, and smear a king with honey (never mind that perhaps not many Hobbits would consider either of those things as achievements worthy of much notice)._  
  
 _On the subject of Thorin, while he doesn’t love me I think we are starting to become friends. It seems as if he indeed wants to make up for his past behaviour (At times he made even Lobelia look well-mannered and courteous) and I am more than pleased to let him. A friendship is not something to look down on, even if one would perhaps still wish (quite foolishly I might add) for more._  
  
 _On this note I will end this not-letter to you, my dear parents. I’m just about done with the honey anyway. And unless Thorin has changed his mind, he will be applying the honey to yours truly next. I think that will require me to stop thinking all together._  
  
 _So with all my love, (but I hope we won’t meet again until many more years have gone by)_  
 _Your ever devoted son,_  
 _Bilbo_  
  
-  
“There,” Bilbo said and took a step back from Thorin. “You can drop your arms now.”  
  
Thorin, who had been biting the inside of his cheek for the last few minutes - ever since Bilbo’s small hands had started touching him, let his jaw relax the same as his arms as the distraction was no longer needed. Well, except for how the Hobbit was still only half-dressed and that is was now Thorin’s turn to put the herbal remedy on Bilbo’s bruises. And he could hardly do that with the Hobbit still having his shirt on could he? After all, Thorin had been made to take off his own.  
  
Hmm, could he stab himself with a fork and get away with it if he said it was a Dwarven custom? The pain _would_ be quite distracting.  
  
“It should numb any discomfort and speed up the healing,” Bilbo said, thankfully appearing oblivious to Thorin’s _predicament_. “I tried it on myself earlier so it’s quite safe.”  
  
Thorin felt his eyes narrow.  
  
“And what if it had not been safe?” he inquired darkly.  
  
“Then I wouldn’t have put any on you?” Bilbo said and blinked at him with those annoyingly pretty eyes.  
  
“What I mean is that what if it would have harmed _you_ when you tried it?” Mahal save him from Hobbits with no sense of self-protection. “You should take better care of yourself,” Thorin said and stopped himself from adding: _or you need to let me do it._  
  
“Are you really going to lecture _me_ ,” Bilbo said incredulously. “After you were the one gnawed on by a Warg?” Then he looked away and flushed a little. “No, sorry, that was rude of me.” Bilbo sighed and blew at a curl that kept flopping into his eyes.

“I need to cut my hair…” he murmured. “The sheep are well-kept so there’s got to be shears _somewhere_.”  
  
“I could plait it for you,” Thorin surprised himself by offering. But it was of course just a way to repay Bilbo for his kindness (Thorin’s sides had already started to complain less at his movements). It had nothing to do with Thorin wanting to bury is fingers into those soft-looking locks, or the fact that the idea of Bilbo taking a blade to any part of himself seemed highly disturbing.  
  
“I don’t know,” Bilbo said and pulled at a curl.  
  
 _Say yes, say yes.  
  
_ “There is no harm in trying, is there?” Thorin asked and did his best to affect an almost disinterested tone of voice. “If it’s not to your taste you could always cut it later.” _Or not. Let’s go with not.  
  
_ “I wouldn’t want to take up your time,” Bilbo said hesitatingly. But that _wasn’t_ a no.  
  
“How much time did you spend preparing this,” Thorin gestured at the pot of honey.  
  
“That’s not the same thing, I was glad to do that, and it’s not like my hair hurts me. It’s just annoying.”  
  
“I would be glad to help you,” Thorin said and curled his fingers into fists so as to not reach out before he was invited to. Then he realised that Bilbo’s injuries still went untreated. “But first, I should apply your remedy to your wounds.”  
  
“I don’t have _wounds_ ,” Bilbo muttered. “Wounds are what you get during such occasions as when a Warg uses you as a chew-toy.”  
  
It seemed that to Hobbits things were less rude when they were muttered compared to spoken out loud.  
  
“Take off your shirt,” Thorin growled and snatched the pot of honey from the table.  
  
Bilbo’s eyes widened until it seemed to Thorin that they took up most of his face.  
  
“You can hardly expect me to put this on your with your shirt still on,” Thorin said – aiming for diplomatic but his annoyance with himself for asking in such a uncouth manner seeped through at the edges. “If you have forgotten, I do not appear to have my shirt on either, do I?”  
  
Bilbo avoided his eyes and muttered something Thorin couldn’t quite make out. Probably something else rude.  
  
Remembering what had worked the last time he had wanted to do something for Bilbo Thorin let out a sigh and said:  
“ _Please_ , let me do this for you.”  
  
A miracle, it worked.  
  
Still avoiding Thorin’s eyes Bilbo reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Thorin let his eyes sweep over soft-looking pale skin, small pink nipples, then further down to a golden trail of hair leading from Bilbo’s belly button down to-  
  
Abruptly Thorin dragged his eyes away. Clearing his throat he asked Bilbo to turn around so that he could reach his back.  
  
At the first press of Thorin’s fingers Bilbo flinched and Thorin gentled what he had already considered a careful touch. Not wanting to appear to linger Thorin quickly smeared Bilbo’s bruises with the sticky liquid.  
  
“Done,” he said when every last purple-blue splotch had been covered. Bilbo quickly pulled the shirt back over his head, making a face as it clung to the honey. Thorin wondered if this was a sign he should put on his own shirt as well. Was he causing offence by not doing so? Was this yet another thing he didn’t understand about Bilbo’s sense of propriety? Unusually tentative Thorin reached for his own shirt where it was draped over a table and pulled it on.  
  
“May I braid your hair now?” the king asked when it became obvious that Bilbo wouldn’t be the one to say anything. The Hobbit was still avoiding his gaze and his cheeks were stained red. Damnation. It seemed he had caused offence after all.  
  
This distress when faced with nakedness, be that Bilbo’s own or those around him, was not something Thorin could understand. And he couldn’t really see how it could have been helped either. It had been Bilbo’s idea to wash Thorin’s clothes just as it had been Bilbo’s idea with the herbal infused honey. Should Thorin have said no? Would that have been the _proper_ thing to do? Blasted Hobbits and their blasted sense of propriety.

Annoyed Thorin didn’t wait for a reply and instead allowed his fingers to sink into Bilbo’s (even softer than it looked) hair. Quickly Thorin had tamed the Hobbit’s curls into a braid winding around the sides of his head and finishing at the back of his neck. It was only when he had finished that Thorin realised he had nothing to secure the braid with.

With a soft sigh Thorin pulled a small clasp from his own hair. At least a Hobbit wouldn’t know just how improper _this_ action was for someone not kin or courting. The rest of the company would know, of course. But they already knew of his feelings, as did the Wizard, and if they had not told Bilbo about the events by the foot of the Carrock, they would hardly tell him of this. Also, despite Bilbo being entirely clueless of the significance, the greedy part of Thorin sang with pleasure at seeing something of his on the one he loved.  
  
And when Bilbo reached up a careful hand to trace the braid and touch the little hair-tie Thorin had to clasp his own hands behind his back lest he do something he would regret.  
  
Bilbo had managed to forgive him for acting like a pig-headed Elf (though wouldn’t an _actual_ pig-headed Elf be something of an improvement if that happened?) so the least Thorin could do to repay that gift was to _not_ pin Bilbo against the table and kiss him until those lips (which was now giving Thorin a warm smile) were redder than his cheeks.  
  
That just wouldn’t be _proper_ at all, would it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not intentionally keeping these two apart. They just end up like this!


	34. Interlude - If Feelings Were Easy Everyone Would Have Them. Oh, Wait.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Kíli and Dwalin offend rabbits and score the silver medal in talking about things. Then they offend rabbits again.

When Kíli saw Bilbo come out of the house with his hair in an intricate braid held in place by Thorin's bead (one Kíli knew Thorin had made himself) his first thought was that Thorin had asked to court Bilbo and that it had been accepted. Bilbo's flushed cheeks also seemed to point to this conclusion.

But the strained look on Thorin's face as he followed Bilbo did _not_.  
  
Kíli’s uncle looked quite a bit like a starving person who had been told supper was cancelled, _forever_.  
  
This lead Kíli to wonder if Thorin _had_ brought up the subject of courting and Bilbo had turned him down, but that seemed about as likely as Dwalin declaring that he would move to Mordor to try and become an Orc.  
  
As Bilbo glanced back at Thorin it was with the same soft-eyed infatuated look as usual, love plainly visible to everyone – except of course to Thorin.  
  
Kíli inched closer to Dwalin. They were both sitting on the grass outside the house with the rest of the company, and quite a few of Beorn’s animal friends.  
  
Fíli and Bofur sat together, talking quietly (probably about Thorin and Bilbo judging by Fíli’s glances over at the pair). Balin was more or less buried beneath a pile of rabbits all intent on showing him their kits (unsurprisingly there was a lot of kits).  Bifur and Bombur were talking with a couple of the dogs. Well, Bombur was talking, Bifur was signing, and the dogs were waving their paws and barking – but the result seemed indeed to be a conversation.  The rabbits not flocking around Balin were cuddled up with a dozing Nori who lay on his back next to seated Ori who muttered about the Goblins breaking his favourite quill. Dori, Glóin and Óin sat together, talking about something undoubtedly boring (if you asked Kíli).

Their mysterious host was still absent, but as the animals weren’t alarmed by it Kíli figured it was probably fine. What kind of trouble could someone that size get himself into anyway that he couldn’t also get himself out of?

(Unless it had something to do with being in a very cramped space, but anyway-)  
  
“We need to do something about those two,” Kíli whispered into Dwalin’s ear and looked to Thorin and Bilbo who now seemed to be arguing about something.  
  
Whispering wasn’t really necessary. Bilbo and Thorin were still far enough away for Kíli to just lower his voice a little. But who was he to turn down a chance to get closer to Dwalin. (Especially since Bilbo had demanded most of their clothes earlier, leaving them both bare-chested.)  
  
In a way Kíli could acknowledge that he and Dwalin had been even more hopeless than Thorin and Bilbo (though it pained him to admit it) because while they were together _now_ , Kíli had known Dwalin all his life and only so recently realised what he was missing. (In other words, there was a lot of lost time to make up for)  
  
Though to be fair, Kíli figured that even if _he_ ’d realised it decades ago he probably wouldn’t have been able to get _Dwalin_ to do something about it until right about now. (The drawback of knowing what a potential lover had looked like as a baby.)  
  
At 77 no one could call Kíli a child anymore - except maybe his mother and Thorin who both did it frequently. Nevertheless they both had agreed that he could join the quest, as was his right as an adult. Kíli had the sneaking suspicion that getting your mother’s approval to go on a quest might not be a point _in_ your favour on the scale of matureness, but there was no way Thorin would had agreed to take either of his sister-sons if the sister had not been all right with it.

“You could talk to him,” Kíli urged. “He might not listen to me or Fíli, but he’d trust you.”  
  
Dwalin shook his head.  
“I'm not sure he even would believe even our burglar by this point,” he said quietly and pulled Kíli closer to his side. “Thorin is scared.”  
  
The words were breathed into Kíli’s hair and only the knowledge that Dwalin likely knew Thorin better than anyone else made Kíli swallow the reflexive refusal that came to his lips. Thorin, _scared_?

“Scared?” Kíli hissed, (okay, so he’d only been able to keep the words back for so long) and pulled back so he could look Dwalin in the eyes. “Even discounting that Bilbo obviously _is_ in love with him-“

“When is the last time you know your uncle to have been in love?”

If Dwalin’s previous words had made Kíli (attempt to) bite his tongue, this question made all thoughts clear right out of his head.  
  
Dwalin grunted thoughtfully when Kíli couldn’t answer. “I’ve known him all my life, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him in love before. I-“ Dwalin paused. “At the start I thought he just _wanted_ the Hobbit. But after the near-miss with the Giants it became quite obvious that wasn’t-“  
  
“You only figured it out after the _Giants_?” Kíli said incredulously. “They were making cow-eyes at each other before we were even out of the bloody _Shire_!”  
  
Kíli’s voice might have gotten a little too loud at the last bit because Bilbo turned his head to look at them and so did everyone else.

Kíli tried to look innocent. It didn’t work. Dwalin sighed.  
  
“We ought to take this conversation somewhere else,” he stated. “Or we can go back to talking about you without clothes on?” he added hopefully and plucked at the fabric of Kíli’s trousers.  
  
“Nice try, but family first,” Kíli said and got to his feet. Dwalin sighed, but relented and followed when Kíli marched off.

-  
  
“So when you thought Thorin just wanted to bed Bilbo you were fine with pushing them into it, but now when they're in love you're _not_? That doesn't- it’s _stupid_.”

That Kíli was stubborn was not news to Dwalin. Or to anyone who had spent more than a couple of minutes with him. Once he got an idea into his head that was usually it, for good or bad. He was much like Thorin in this way, Dwalin mused.  
  
The younger Dwarf was currently glaring at him with his arms folded across his chest and with something pretty close to a pout on his lips. The way Dwalin kept getting distracted by his desire to kiss that almost-pout away, well, _that_ on the other hand was comparatively new.  
  
They had relocated to the hedge-corner the furthest distance from the house and the rest of the company (whistles and some dirty suggestions – both from Bombur – trailing them as they left).  
  
By the hedges there was little else but grass, some blackcurrant bushes, and the occasional rabbit as this seemed to be close to where they’d dug most of their burrows.

“I'm not saying that I'm against it,” Dwalin argued. “But what do you think will happen if we go with your brother’s hare-brained (one of the rabbits passing by glared at him - Dwalin ignored it) scheme of locking them in a room together?”

Kíli gave him a meaningful, if slightly uncomfortable, look.

Dwalin shook his head. He’d been wary of that idea when Fíli had first brought it up and the idea now appealed even less. Put Thorin in a locked room and their host would likely find himself with a Dwarf-shaped hole in the wall.

“Right now I think you could take those two; truss them up together -naked, and leave them for a day. When you came to untie them Thorin would apologize to the Hobbit for the idiocy of his sister-sons and then keep on as if nothing had happened.”

“But that’s just because he doesn’t think that Bilbo loves him,” Kíli exclaimed. “If we could make him understand-“  
  
“Thorin isn’t blind,” Dwalin cut him off. “Thick-headed yes, blind - no. Our burglar is hopefully a better thief than secret keeper, because every passing thought he has is plain to read on his face. Part of Thorin doesn’t _want_ to see, and currently it seems to be the larger chunk of him.”

“Because he’s _scared_?” Kíli demanded. Dwalin took a moment to admire the sight he made; all flashing eyes and flushed cheeks. Then he took another moment, just because he could now do so without feeling like he was looking at someone who was meant for another.  
  
“Aye,” Dwalin said simply. “And I don’t think either one of us can fault him. If you hadn’t sought me out I likely would have wished you and Ori the best of luck and never said a word.”  
  
“Again, I’ve never been in love with Ori,” Kíli protested. “I don’t know where you and Fíli got that impression from. Though I take your point,” he added a bit sullenly (the almost-pout was back, and so was Dwalin’s desire to kiss it). “Fíli is the only one who dared go after what he wanted and who didn’t give up at the first sign of defeat.”  
  
“If you’d given up, you hardly would have come knocking on my door,” Dwalin said and put his hands on Kíli’s hips. He smiled when two hands nestled down into his beard, pulling him down for a kiss.  
  
“But I _was_ terrified,” Kíli whispered against his lips when they parted and Dwalin had to kiss him again for that until Kíli stopped looking at him with eyes that still held a shadow of that fear. He much preferred the half-lidded gaze that came with swollen lips. Dwalin was sorely tempted to get them both on the ground and really give the rabbits something to glare about, but when Kíli broke the kiss it wasn’t with an offer to get rid of his trousers.  
  
“If Fíli hadn’t pushed me into it I don’t know if I would have said anything,” Kíli said without meeting Dwalin’s eyes, combing his fingers through the other Dwarf’s beard. “I would rather have been satisfied with only your friendship than knowing for sure I could _never_ have anything else.”  
  
“Thorin isn’t just afraid of being turned down,” Dwalin said and stroked his hands up and down Kíli’s sides. “I’d say he’s just as scared of getting a yes.”  
  
“I think you have to stop touching me,” Kíli muttered a beat later. “Because I’m either too distracted to understand what you’re saying or that just didn’t make any sense.”  
  
Despite his words Kíli didn’t move back from him and Dwalin’s resulting grin might have been a tad too wolfish as a grazing rabbit let out a _wheek_ and scampered off fast enough to make its white tail a blur.  
  
It was simply _unreasonable_ for anyone to expect Dwalin to stop touching Kíli now that he had permission, so he slid one hand up to tangle in Kíli’s unruly locks and pulled him into another kiss. It may have been greedy, but it didn’t seem to matter that Dwalin had spent most of last night and this morning touching as much of Kíli as he’d been able to, he still wanted more.

Thankfully it seemed as Kíli was of a similar mind, what with the way his mouth opened beneath Dwalin’s, and the way he groaned and pressed close enough that Dwalin imagined he could feel Kíli’s heart beating against his own. But before things could escalate they were interrupted by a small growl coming from below.  
  
One dark and one white rabbit sat glaring up at the two Dwarfs. The dark one stomped one foot into the ground in a definitely annoyed manner. The white one just shook its head and gestured towards two rabbit kits who watched Dwalin and Kíli with big eyes.  
  
“Ah, not in front of the children,” Kíli snickered. “We’re sorry,” he apologized to the rabbits who huffed and hopped off to collect their young.  
  
Dwalin heaved a sigh but dropped his arms when Kíli made to take a step back.  
  
“I have to say I like this better than you just telling me to shut up,” Kíli teased, all dark eyes and red lips and Dwalin made a rumbling noise that might have been more growl than grunt. “But back to the subject of Thorin and our dear burglar, what do you mean by Thorin being fearful of getting a _yes_?”

Dwalin groped for the right words. (He would rather grope Kíli but alas he there was again air between their bodies.)  
  
“Thorin doesn’t deal well with loss,” Dwalin said slowly. “If he was to let himself believe that he could have the Hobbit, and something then would happen  – and there’s a fair chance of something happening to any of us considering the nature of this quest, he-“  
  
“He’d be worse than Mum was after Dad died,” Kíli filled in, realisation lightening his eyes, and Dwalin nodded.  
  
“I’m _not_ saying that your mother loved your father less-“ Dwalin explained, but Kíli cut him off.  
  
“No, I understand what you mean. Mum can at least admit she’s _got_ feelings while Uncle would rather kiss an Elf before conceding anything of the sort. So if they get broken - the feelings, he'll just ignore them. And Mum had to be strong for Fíli and me.”  
  
Kíli’s eyes were a bit distant and deciding that any rabbits still around could just cover their eyes, Dwalin gathered the younger Dwarf up in a tight embrace.  
  
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, when it happened,” he said gruffly into Kíli’s hair. It wasn’t the first time he’d said the words, but he hoped they still managed to convey a little of his regret.  
  
“You came as soon as you could,” Kíli murmured and tightened his own arms around Dwalin.  
  
Kíli and Fíli had only been in their twenties when Vídar had been killed.  An earthquake had prompted the collapse of two tunnels no one had even known existed, which had caused the floor in one of the main dining halls to cave in.  
  
At the time Dwalin had been up north, sent by Thorin to see if the dwellings in the northern ranges of the Blue Mountains were too far fallen into disrepair to be worth the effort of making them habitable once again. They northern mountain range had been left empty for centuries upon centuries, but with both Erebor and Khazad-dûm seemingly lost, Thorin wanted to know exactly many much of their ancestral homes could still be saved.

He had felt the earthquake, but only as a faint rumbling in the ground and in the stone, and Dwalin had been able to return carrying good news since the damage dealt over the centuries had not been as bad as anyone had expected. But to what use was news like that when he’d returned only to find a people again brought down by grief.  
  
Vídar had not been the only victim, just one out of almost two dozen.  

Dís, usually so strong and composed, had appeared as brittle as glass when Dwalin saw her. As he had folded her into his arms he’d almost feared she would shatter into a million sharp pieces.  
  
Thorin, in contrast, had appeared to be made out of marble - his distress only given away by how his hands would keep clenching and unclenching.

Fíli and Kíli had been much too young and much too serious -faces without even a trace of the smiles they customarily wore. It had taken years until Dís laughed again, but eventually she had, and now Dwalin even would say she was happy again, though she’d never remarried.  
  
Thorin on the other hand had stopped laughing when Erebor was lost, and then never really gotten back into the habit again. Each loss since had only made his shoulders stiffer and his jaw tighter. Dwalin would bet both his axes that part of Thorin wouldn’t allow himself to be too happy because then that too could be taken from him. It was illogical, but what matters concerning the heart was not.

“Love you,” Dwalin rumbled quietly and pressed a kiss to Kíli’s forehead, smiling when Kíli repeated the words. The two of them had already had years together, if not years as lovers, and all going well they would have many more years together still. But even if they didn’t, Dwalin would rather have this for just a short time than not at all.

“We have to make Bilbo make the first move then,” Kíli said looking up at Dwalin. “Or is he as wilfully blind?”  
  
“I think he’s just blind, period,” Dwalin said a little exasperated. “Thorin isn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve-“  
Kíli snorted.  
“But now he’s going about braiding hair and doing laundry.”  
  
“He must want Bilbo to know, part of him _must_ want it to happen,” Kíli said thoughtfully. “Maybe we ought to just tell Bilbo and hope Thorin won't find out? Surely he still can't think we've coaxed Bilbo into anything. He's just as stubborn as Thorin if not more.”

“Would _he_ believe you?” Dwalin wondered. “And if he confronted Thorin with it, would Thorin realise it was returned and not just… an accusation?”  
  
Kíli winced. “And we’re back to locking them up together,” he said glumly. A speculative look crossed his face.  
  
“You're not getting either of them drunk,” Dwalin said sternly. That would be a disaster.  
  
“I hate it when you do that,” Kíli scowled. “It’s like the lack of hair just lets others’ thoughts go straight into your head.”  
  
Dwalin snapped his teeth at the hand Kíli had reached up to stroke his bare head with.  
  
“Fine,” Kíli said sulkily. “But I’d bet Bilbo would be more brave if he got a bit liquored up first.”  
  
“And I bet Thorin would be a lot more flat once he’d thrown himself of the nearest cliff for taking advantage,” Dwalin said, unimpressed. “It’s a bad idea.”  
  
“Oh,” Kíli said and snapped his fingers. “Thorin’s day of birth should be coming soon, only I’m not sure what the current date is, but we couldn’t have missed it already. Maybe we can say that giving a kiss is traditional for Dwarves? Or we can wait until they both have fallen asleep and carry Bilbo to Thorin’s room, he’ll believe he’s sleepwalked, they both will. Or-”  
  
Dwalin sighed and bent to take Kíli’s lips again, trying to ignore the dirty look he got from a nearby rabbit who sat watching a couple of kits playing.  
  
"I think I’m all talked out about Thorin and his burglar for the moment,” he said and nipped at Kíli’s bottom lip. “You sure I can't convince you to lose the rest of your clothes?”  
  
The rabbit squeaked indignantly and used its ears to cover the kits’ eyes.  
  
“I think we might be banished if we start something here,” Kíli snickered, and the rabbit nodded empathically.  
  
"Earlier, Bifur told me something interesting about those bees..." Dwalin murmured and put his arm around Kíli’s shoulder to pull him along, the rabbit letting out a relieved sigh.

-

After Kíli had stopped laughing at Dwalin for singing the most ridiculous song Kíli had ever heard (it could be how effective it wanted, it was still ridiculous) Dwalin did get to see him naked.  
  
Kíli figured he was the winner though, because Dwalin got naked too, and there was more of him to see. (In every sense of the word)

And of course neither of them settled for just looking.

“You might need to carry me back,” Kíli groaned and stretched muscles that still quivered slightly. “I’m starting to arrive at the conclusion that you _like_ making me feel like a wet rag, be that because you’ve trashed me during weapons practice or because you’ve decided that coming once just isn’t good enough.”  
  
“You complaining?” Dwalin muttered into his hip and Kíli had to convince certain parts of himself that the hoarseness of Dwalin’s voice was not a sufficient reason to aim for a third time.  
  
“Not if you carry me,” Kíli said and played with the ring in Dwalin’s left ear.

“Brat.”

When they did manage to get back to the house it was revealed that it was quite possible that Fíli (likely aided by Bofur) had come to a similar conclusion about Thorin’s lack of action and the need to instead focus on Bilbo - because somewhere between getting hung up to dry and actually drying, most of Thorin’s clothes had gone mysteriously missing.  
  
The next morning they would be discovered behind a bush and Fíli would say something unconvincingly about the wind snagging them,  - but for the rest of that evening Thorin had to put on a stoic face and walk around in just his undershirt and breeches. And then just his breeches as Kíli (accidentally on purpose) spilled his drink on Thorin's shirt.

After supper Kíli overheard Thorin asking if Óin thought Bilbo might have a fever since he appeared flushed, which meant that their first plan (Kíli was taking some of the credit for making Thorin take of his shirt) of Hobbit-baiting was a roaring success.  
  
Well, almost, it would have been better if Thorin would actually have noticed that Bilbo’s blush _renewed_ every time the hobbit caught sight of Thorin's bare chest.  
  
But apparently small steps was what was needed. It would work out in time, or there was always another plan...  
  
"You're _not_ getting them drunk," Dwalin muttered.  
  
Damn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, Thorin isn't knowingly ignoring Bilbo's feelings for him. But really, no one is that blind unless there's something obscuring their vision just a little. Thorin's sense of self-protection would likely hit anyone who told him that it was better to have love and lost, etc. because when you've tried that enough times, well... But never fear, Bilbo is just as stubborn as Thorin! There is still hope.
> 
> Without asking me the rabbits went ahead and adopted Balin as everyone's grandpa, so of course they wanted him to see how pretty their children ~~his grandkids~~ are.
> 
> Hope you don't think Dwalin was OOC. While he might seem like mostly brawn, and while he hasn't gotten Balin's skill with words, he's not stupid at all. And he's known Thorin for ages and ages.


	35. If There Is A Door, There Must Be A Key? No, That's Not How It Went.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli needs a new plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small bit, but better that than nothing at all I hope :)

There were no locks on any of the rooms in Beorn's house. At least Fíli had been looking for what felt like ages and so far he’d seen more wooden doors than he’d ever seen in his life (did every sheep, dog, pony and the rest, have their own room or what was going on?) but not a single one of them came with a lock.

Damn.  
  
Perhaps it should have been expected. All of Beorn’s animal friends were pack animals, so it was quite possible that his early assumption about them not knowing the word _privacy_ had been entirely too correct. And he didn’t think the rabbits would be of much help this time because they probably didn’t even live in the house. How would they go about even opening a door for one? Jumping up and hoping for the best?  
  
No locks meant that Fíli had to re-think his plan about locking Thorin and Bilbo up together. Though perhaps there was enough furniture to pile against the door... as a barricade. But while he might could have explained a locked door (the lock might have jammed for one) it would be harder to explain why furniture would have piled itself up outside the room when Thorin wondered what was going on (and he would). Fíli _could_ say that the sheep did it, but he thought they’d likely just tattle on him. Spoil sports.  
  
And most of the company was no help at all either as they’d entered Nori’s wager and were thusly not allowed to interfere in Thorin’s failure to even _mention_ the word courting.  
  
Sure, he seemed to be trying to… do, _something_. What with helping Bilbo to do laundry and actually listening to the Hobbit, and the braid that had showed up in Bilbo’s hair was not to be forgotten either - even though Thorin had possibly looked even more like a thundercloud than usual when he’d followed Bilbo outside after their little honey-get-together. (Thorin in turn was followed by Nori’s rabbit-spies and an innocently looking pony-spy – the latter apparently _having_ gone unnoticed by Thorin and Bilbo after all… go figure)  
  
Seriously. Fíli couldn’t take much more of this. Not only was it painful to watch just on general principle, (doubly so: the way Bilbo looked at Thorin made Fíli want to cover his eyes out of the sheer amount of mushiness he could see, but Thorin apparently didn’t see _any_ of it which pained Fíli in a whole 'nother way), Fíli didn’t like seeing Thorin unhappy any more than he’d liked seeing Kíli unhappy. And he liked Bilbo too, and would prefer to see him happy as well. Just not _too_ happy, if you caught his meaning.

After Bilbo and Thorin had exited the house, and after they had finished arguing about something or another – both Bofur and Bombur had looked at the pair fondly, so apparently they reminded the brothers of their parents again - Bilbo had offered to smear everyone else with honey too (a vein on Thorin’s forehead had throbbed in a very worrying way). Bilbo hadn’t worded the offer exactly like that, but when you got down to it, that had been what he’d meant.  
  
“Why, Master Hobbit,” Bombur had snickered. “I didn’t think we had the kind of relationship that would allow for you to rub honey onto my naked flesh.” (A vein on Thorin’s neck had also started to bulge in a disturbing manner)  
  
“If he started with you, Bombur, he’d not get to the rest of us before the next sunrise,” Glóin hollered. “There’s so much of you to rub, my friend.”  
  
“Thank you for noticing,” Bombur preened and spread his legs slightly, which caused Glóin to smack a palm over his eyes and moan that he hadn’t meant it like _that_.  
  
“I’ve seen bigger!” Nori called.  
  
“It just _looks_ smaller than it really is because there’s so much else of me,” Bombur said and looked down at his crotch.  
  
“If you just leave the pot I’m sure those who are pained by their bumps and bruises will put it to good use,” Balin - with an arm-full of baby rabbits, kindly suggested to Bilbo who just stared blankly up into the sky.  
  
It seemed as it now was Bilbo’s turn to imitate a boulder, but Thorin certainly breathed enough for both of them as he huffed and stormed away. Storming away in a _regal_ manner didn’t work nearly as well when you were only half-dressed, Fíli noted.  
  
Fíli himself were bare-chested and clad only in his boots and trousers, but then again, he wasn’t much for storming off anyway.  
  
Kíli and Dwalin on the other hand had already run off by this point, _mercifully_ enough.  
  
Kíli was about as subtle as an Orc in a pottery shop and if he kept shouting out random bits of his private conversations then even Thorin and Bilbo would eventually catch on that they were the likely subject being discussed. Also, with the way Dwalin had been looking Kíli, Fíli was pretty glad to have them out of sight.  
  
Thorin’s return and speedy departure seemed to be a signal to the rest of the company to stop milling about in front of the house as well. Well, excepting Balin and the rabbits who seemed to be having the time of their lives.  
  
“I’m going to see if our burglar is broken,” Bofur said and gave Fíli a quick kiss before going to poke at the still frozen Bilbo.  
  
Fíli decided to join Ori who’d moved to sit beneath a large oak tree, head bent over his writing.  
  
“When you write about our adventures,” Fíli said and leaned back against the tree. “Please tell me you’ll write a heavily edited version.”  
  
Ori blinked at him.  
  
“I mean, better the world not know that the King Under the Mountain can’t string three little words together.” Fíli waved his hand for emphasis. “I. Love. You. And then we’d all be out of our misery.”  
  
“I think they’re kinda sweet actually,” Ori defended.  
  
Fíli looked at him with wide eyes.  
“Tell me you’re _not_ actually writing about them, I was joking, I didn’t really think you’d do it.”  
  
“I haven’t written anything I wouldn’t be comfortable with Thorin reading,” Ori said and turned back to his pages.  
  
“But what about what _Thorin_ would be comfortable reading,” Fíli prodded. “Any mentions of a certain coat that just happen to constantly find itself draped over a certain burglar? And please tell me that anytime _anyone_ has been naked will be scrapped.  And anything Bombur has ever said. Hey, what have you written about _me_?”  
  
“Maybe the question is, what _can_ I write?” Ori said pointedly and slapped Fíli’s fingers away from his neatly sorted papers.  
  
“Fine,” Fíli said and held his hands up. “I get it.”  
  
They sat together quietly for a few moments.  
  
“So... what did you write about Kíli?”  
  
Ori groaned.

-  
  
Having been banished from Ori’s side, Fíli decided to go back into the house and check if Thorin’s door or Bilbo’s door seemed better suited to lock people behind, and that’s when he realised that there weren’t actually any locks at all.  
  
Somehow he wound up in the kitchens where one of the dogs took one look at his expression and decided to do something about it. (Everyone loves puppies, right?)

So when Bofur later found Fíli, he found him sitting down in a corner in the kitchen, five puppies falling over themselves to cheer him up. Or, cheer him up and at the same time get to the ball that the Dwarf held in his hand.  
  
“I _can’t_ lock Uncle and Bilbo inside a room,” Fíli said glumly when he saw that it was Bofur who had joined him. He threw the ball (made out of some sort of cloth tightly bound with string) that one of the dogs had given him earlier and all the puppies scrambled after it as if it was the best and most amazing thing they’d ever seen. (Even though he’d thrown it about a hundred times already. Puppies, as it turned out, were even _more_ easily entertained than Kíli.)  
  
“No, it’s not the best of idea is it,” Bofur said and sat down on the floor next to Fíli.  
   
“It’s a great idea.” Fíli gave Bofur a hurt look. “I mean, I literally _can’t._ There are _no_ locks in this place.”  
  
Bofur snickered and slung his arm over Fíli’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, but that _is_ funny.”  
  
“To you maybe,” Fíli grumped and burrowed closer to Bofur.  
  
Yipping excitedly the puppies came rushing back, skidding over the slippery floor and ending up in a pile pressed to the wall. The one with the ball untangled itself and dropped it into Fíli’s outstretched hand with a proud waggle of its little tail.

“So,” Bofur said. “You need a new plan then. Have you any ideas?” he asked the puppies. As one they shook their heads, but without taking their eyes off the ball. Snorting, Fíli threw it again, and they were off.  
  
“I think I might as well tell Thorin to just go ahead and bloody well _say_ something to Bilbo,” Fíli said. “He did listen to me before, in the cave, and maybe if the damned Goblins hadn’t ruined it he would have- I don’t know, done _something_.”  
  
Bofur waggled his eyebrows.  
  
“Not you too,” Fíli moaned. “Bombur has scarred me enough for today already, thank you.”  
  
“And where would these scars be located,” Bofur said and inspected Fíli’s bare chest, eyes slipping lower and lower. “Seems unfair if you’ve gone ahead and changed how you look just when I finally had a proper viewing.”  
  
“Unfair?” Fíli questioned and inched a little closer to Bofur.  
  
“Maybe not unfair,” Bofur conceded and put his hand on the flat of Fíli’s stomach. “But I think that maybe-“  
  
“Woff!”  
  
The puppies were back.  
  
“If Bombur was here,” Bofur said and removed his hand. “He’d definitely say something about playing with balls right now. Possibly including the colour blue.”  
  
Fíli groaned.


	36. New Plots! New Plans! Same Old Hat.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result is the definition of being crazy. Fíli isn't crazy, so he decides to try something new. Well, until he just tries something old again.

“Please," Fíli said and looked at Ori with his best attempt at puppy-dog eyes. How cruel of Kíli to disappear when Fíli needed him the most. _Kíli_ was the brother with the eyes that made anyone who saw them scramble to do his bidding. Fíli did not understand how it happened, just that it happened, and that his own blue eyes did not work half as well as Kíli's brown ones.

Luckily, in his brother's absence Fíli had recruited five actual puppies to help him. Three of the little ones sat at Ori's feet and looked pleadingly up at the young Scribe, and the other two pups were curled up in Fíli's arms, one small fuzzy head on each side of his own, their eyes overly large and wet and firmly fixed on Ori.

"You're the only one I trust with this, please?"  
  
One of the puppies whined and pawed at Ori’s legs, then rather ruined the effect by turning to Fíli and wagging its tail.

"I don't know, Fíli," Ori said and looked away. "It doesn't feel right."

" _What_ doesn’t feel right?” Fíli exclaimed, but a silent sort of exclamation because this was business best kept on the down low.  “You, my friend, are not going to have to do anything except being your usual curious and polite self."

Ori had now picked up one of the puppies. Was this a good or bad sign? Did he do it just so he wouldn’t have to look at it?

“I entered in Nori’s wager so I'm not even supposed to do anything," Ori said and petted the happily panting pup.

"Oh but this _won't_ be interfering,” Fíli promised. “You'll just talk to Bilbo for a little while. Maybe about books? You both like books."  
  
The puppy Ori was holding whined a little. Maybe it didn’t like books... but then it didn’t need to come. The pups work was done if they could just get Ori to agree…  
  
“But you want me to distract him,” Ori protested. “You’re going to do _something_.”  
  
“And since I’m not telling you what then you’re not really part of it!” Fíli tried to hold up his hands in a ‘there you have it’-gesture, but he just ended up holding up the puppies instead. A ‘there you have the puppies’-gesture just wasn’t the same thing at all.  
  
“Please?” Fíli tried again and held the two puppies up just in front of Ori’s face, making the other Dwarf go cross-eyed in his attempt to look at them.  
  
“Fine,” Ori huffed, and if _Fíli’_ d had a tail he would now be wagging it. “I’ll distract him.”  
  
“ _Talk_ to him,” Fíli said innocently. “Oh, but remember to get him inside first.”  
  
Ori nodded reluctantly and scratched the belly of the puppy he was holding. “Excellent,” Fíli beamed and thrust the two puppies into Ori’s arms. “Bring the puppies too. If they want to of course.”  
  
The one that had complained about the subject of books solemnly shook its head.  
  
-  
  
The start of Fíli’s new master plan had been plotted out while playing with the puppies. After he and Bofur had been interrupted in the kitchen Bofur had gone to talk with Bombur and Bifur and Fíli had found himself alone with five squirming and yipping puppies and his own dark mood over having to abandon the ‘locking them up together’-plan.  
  
But as it turned out, throwing a ball over and over again was very meditative and soon enough Fíli had stopped moping. (Besides, if worst came to worst then _Erebor_ surely would have locks.)  
  
As his feelings of disappointment evaporated room was made for new plans, new opportunities.  
  
It was possible that he’d been concentrating a little too hard on making Thorin make the first move. Perhaps it was time to see what could push the Hobbit over the edge…  
  
Fíli discarded the idea of giving Bilbo flowers and pretending they were from Thorin. Problem one with that plan was that Fíli had no clue what flowers that would mean nice things and what flowers that would convey that Thorin thought that Bilbo’s mother had been half-Goblin.  
  
Problem two was that while Bilbo might buy into the idea that the flowers were from Thorin, _Thorin_ wouldn’t.  
  
In a perfect world Bilbo would get the flowers and then throw himself into Thorin’s arms and Thorin would be so overjoyed that he simply wouldn’t _care_ where the flowers came from. But in _this_ world Bilbo would get the flowers, he would then go and thank Thorin for the flowers, Thorin would stare blankly at Bilbo, and then stare murderously at his nephew for interfering, and then go off to have a royal sulk about it. (And Bilbo would be left staring confusedly at the flowers, probably until a sheep wandered along and ate them.)  
  
Problem three… well there wasn’t actually a problem three, but the first two were problematic enough on their own.  
  
Giving Bilbo flowers anonymously (for example by sneaking them into his room) was even worse.  
  
The problems with were variations on the theme of Thorin knowing damned well that he would _not_ have been the one to pick any flowers, so if Bilbo suddenly received them that could very well be interpreted as someone else being interested.  
  
Again, in a _perfect_ world this would lead to Thorin being overcome with jealousy and finally asking to court Bilbo. But Fíli thought it much more likely that Thorin would go and have the sulk to end all other sulks. Especially if Bilbo would seem pleased about the flowers. (If they turned out to be insulting flowers, he probably would be less than pleased)  
  
Realising that he was again thinking about how to make Thorin act, Fíli tried to go back to thinking about what might prompt _Bilbo_ to confessing his feelings.  
  
In stories about two people falling in love confessions were often brought upon by one or both of the pair being in mortal danger. Unfortunately this had already been tried. And even if it hadn’t then Fíli did not particularly enjoy plotting murder on his Uncle, not even for a good cause.  
  
Fíli sighed. He remembered thinking at the start of the quest that all it would take for Thorin to declare his intentions would be seeing Bilbo in danger a few times. Pfft. That had been a load of absolute bollocks. If standing up to Azog only rated Bilbo getting a hug then Fíli figured that their burglar would have to bind himself to one of Smaug’s teeth before getting a kiss.  
  
Fíli sighed and threw the ball for what now was surely the millionth time. Even the puppies seemed to be giving up on it. Oh, they still ran, but it wasn’t at all with the same enthusiasm. When they returned it was with a collective sigh and the one with the ball more or less collapsed into Fíli’s lap.  
  
“Sorry,” Fíli said and looked at the little one. One of the adult dogs in the kitchen huffed in a way that sounded exactly like a laugh and shook her head. Putting the ball aside Fíli stretched out his legs and settled the puppy more comfortably, smiling when the other four also thudded down either on his legs or just beside him. At least they would sleep well tonight.  
  
What Fíli had done now for the puppies Thorin had done more than once for Fíli himself and Kíli when they’d been children. Fíli’s parents had always thanked Thorin most profusely every time he’d returned with two nephews more asleep than awake after a full day’s (or more) worth of adventuring. Of course adventuring when you’re a Dwarfling would not be a quest to slay Dragons and instead be more along the lines of camping out in a forest where the most dangerous thing would be squirrels. Still, it had been a lot of fun, and Fíli was so thankful that Thorin had allowed himself to stop being a King every so often to just be an Uncle instead.  
  
And now it was time to get Thorin to stop being a King and instead just be someone who was stupidly in love. Not to say that he wasn’t, but it was likely there was still quite the bit of King getting in the way. On Bilbo’s part as well. If Bofur had been nervous about being in a relationship with Fíli due to the fact that he someday might be King, then their burglar probably had similar doubts about Thorin. Not that the Hobbit seemed to have _too_ much respect for Fíli’s uncle, what with arguing with him about stupid things like who should have Thorin’s cloak and letting him help with washing clothes, but getting from there to proposing courtship might take some help.  
  
They’d done a pretty good job of explaining that two males in a relationship was ordinary enough, but sadly Bilbo would be the first Hobbit consort when Thorin finally got around to proposing (hopefully sometime before the next Age) so there was not really any good stories to tell Bilbo to show that such a relationship would be completely normal. Honestly it wouldn’t really be completely normal (see: first Hobbit consort), but it wasn’t like anyone would _mind_. Thorin was almost 200 years old after all, everyone would be happy to see him settle down with just about anyone (as long as his intended was not an Orc or an Elf).  
  
So, how to make Thorin appear less kingly. It was a tough nut to crack. Somehow Thorin would manage to look majestic when passing someone a loaf of bread. Though when he’d stormed off earlier he had looked a lot less regal than usual, on account of wearing just a worn shirt and his breeches…. Maybe that was the way to go? Take away the furs and the armour to reveal the Dwarf beneath it all? It wasn’t like Bilbo could just forget that Thorin was King, but maybe it’d help if it wasn’t so obvious.  
  
“Maybe I can hide the furs…” Fíli mumbled. They were much to regal.  
  
One of the puppies made worried sound when Fíli said the word furs.

“Oh, it's just wolf,” Fíli explained to the little one and petted it soothingly. “It tried to eat him, so I think it got what was coming to it.”  
  
Come to think of it, why stop with the furs? Why not hide as much of Thorin’s clothes as possible? After all Fíli had the perfect opportunity as Thorin wasn’t even wearing most of his clothes at the moment.  
  
Or _almost_ the perfect opportunity it would turn out when Fíli untangled himself from the puppies to go back outside. Bilbo had fished them out of the pot and hung them to dry, but then the Hobbit had settled on the grass just a short distance away to have a talk with two of the sheep. Again, why did the sheep have to be such spoilsports? Couldn’t they have a talk with Bilbo somewhere else?  
  
Okay, the plan to get Thorin’s clothes would have to include a way to distract Bilbo. Because otherwise the plan would have to include running away from Thorin when he found out who had taken his clothes.

Though on the whole this master plan to make Bilbo take the first really was a stroke of genius.

Thorin might think Fíli was up to something, might even know he was up to something, but what could he say? ‘Stop making me more attractive to our burglar’? Pfft. (However, ‘stop taking my clothes’, was something Thorin _could_ and _would_ say if he found out about it…)  
  
Maybe Fíli could blame it on the sheep?  
  
Getting Ori to provide the distraction was another stroke of pure brilliance (the puppies had thankfully rested enough so they could help convince him) and Fíli could have patted himself on the back when Ori dragged Bilbo inside to look at some ‘fascinating’ carvings on one of the halls in Beorn’s house.  
  
“It’s got a story, it’s almost like a book!” Fíli heard Ori say before the pair disappeared inside the house.  
  
Excellent.  
  
And by chance the sheep at trotted off after Bilbo had excused himself and Fíli was left completely alone with the sodden clothes.  
  
Just barely keeping himself from cackling (a good plot somehow seemed to warrant a bit of cackling) Fíli hurriedly took down Thorin’s clothes from the tree where Bilbo’s had hung them. As he stood with an armful of dripping cloth Fíli realised that he perhaps had not thought this plan through. What was he supposed to do with them now?  
  
Well, Thorin and Bilbo had been two out of the few people who hadn’t walked by those bushes earlier that day… and no sheep had been around either.

-  
  
“Do I want to know why your trousers have wet spots on them?” Bofur asked when  a cheerfully whistling Fíli found his _betrothed_ (and wasn’t that just about the best word in the world?) a short while later.  
  
“The less you know the safer it is for you,” Fíli grinned and winked. “But it will all be _uncovered_ soon enough.”  
  
“That’s a pun,” Bombur said and squinted at Fíli. “I know a bad pun when I hear one.”  
  
“It’s not a _bad_ pun,” Fíli protested and Bofur patted his hand, though the Dwarf was smirking so Fíli didn’t feel particularly consoled. Narrowing his eyes Fíli snatched Bofur’s hat and took off running.  
  
“At least _something_ is uncovered now,” he called over his shoulder. Perhaps he should not have looked back though because when Fíli turned his head forward again there was a damned pony in his way and he had to slide beneath it to avoid smacking right into it. And of course there was a damned juniper bush just behind it. Out of all the days do fall into something with a lot of needles Fíli just had to pick the day when he was bare chested.  
  
“Ouch,” he said and again put on his best puppy-dog eyes when Bofur came ambling up to him.  
  
“ _This_ is why you shouldn’t take my hat,” Bofur tsked and plucked his hat off of a branch just over Fíli’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See any spelling/grammar mistakes, please let me know. This goes for always, but especially now since I've only read through this once...


	37. My Love Is Like A Red Red... Blushing Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More plots and some results. Of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps! Just curious, what's your favourite couple in this story? Please someone say Balin/bunnies, lol. No, but really?  
> Shippers, confess!

Of course Fíli wasn’t really hurt by the juniper. A Dwarf does not survive Stone Giants, Goblins, Wargs and Orcs to simply fall victim to a stupid bush. (Though if one _would_ , that would be horribly embarrassing for sure.)  
  
Bofur helped fish him out of it as soon as he’d gotten his hat back, and Fíli contemplated complaining about priorities but decided to give it a pass since it was a failed attempt at hat-nabbing that had landing him in the bush in the first place. Best not draw more attention to it than absolutely necessary…

After that unfortunate incident the rest of the afternoon and evening turned out to be quite... well, _entertaining_ might be the right word for it.  
  
It took quite a while for anyone to realise that Thorin’s clothes were missing, and long before anyone did they’d dried enough so that Fíli could collect them from the bushes and hide them beneath his bed.  
  
When he came back outside (he’d had to sneak around a bit to avoid being seen, the damned sheep were everywhere), no one was still the wiser and it was at least another hours before Bilbo started fluttering anxiously around the trees where the rest of the clothes hung.  
  
After the clothes had not miraculously appeared the third time the Hobbit looked for them the rest of the company had realised something was up and started milling around outside, Thorin being amongst them (though he seemed to aim more in the direction of looming than milling)  
  
The result of Thorin trying his absolute best to not say anything offensive about his clothes being gone was that he actually didn’t say anything at all. When Bilbo still looked upset Thorin switched tactics to trying not to even _glare_ in Bilbo’s general direction.  
  
Bilbo, as it turned out, had very good puppy-dog eyes and Fíli had to carefully look the other way or risk going back inside the get the clothes just to make him stop looking like that. But it was for the Hobbit’s own good after all.  
  
Fíli could see that Thorin also tried to look away (both too avoid the puppy-dog eyes and to not glare at the Hobbit), but his eyes kept going back. This might have had something to do with how Bilbo’s hands kept going to his hair - or to be more precise: to the braid that was winding its way through it.

The entire thing was almost more than a well-meaning Dwarf could take without bursting out in entirely inappropriate laughter.  
  
Fíli watched as his uncle’s expression kept circling from annoyed (clothes are gone) to carefully neutral (must not make Bilbo think I’m angry at him) back to annoyed (but where _are_ my clothes?) to besotted (braid!) to guilty (must not let Bilbo know about mushy feelings) back to besotted (but braid!) and then back to annoyed again when Thorin again remembered that most of his clothes had somehow up and left. And so it went.  
  
“Don’t you worry,” Bofur said and patted Bilbo’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, and I’m sure they’ll come back soon enough.” The last was said while Bofur was pointedly not looking anywhere near Fíli, bless him  
  
While Thorin was well occupied (and most of the other Dwarfs was also distracted by the show) Fíli decided to put the second part of his plan in motion.

Convincing the rabbits to start trailing Thorin wherever he went wasn’t exactly easy, but Fíli followed Nori’s example and offered to peel all the apples they wanted (the number was not small, but he would pay the price gladly if it would help) in exchange for them following Thorin for at least a couple hours a day for the rest of their stay here.  
  
Fíli’s reasoning behind this strategy was that being followed by tiny fluffy creatures _surely_ could not be counted as very majestic. Plus, it would show a softer side of Thorin and that might be just what Bilbo needed to see to dare act.  
  
Just like with the clothes no one noticed what was going at first. Balin was probably the first to figure it out as less rabbits than before cuddled up to him when he sat down. (There were still plenty of rabbits left for Balin though, so it took him a while to figure out that some were missing.)  
  
The third time Thorin almost stepped at a bunny Fíli figured was the moment his uncle caught on to something strange being afoot, literally.  
  
Staring down at the fluffy creatures Thorin raised an eyebrow. One of the rabbits squeaked a little and hid behind a bigger rabbit and Fíli sighed. Thorin’s softer side really needed some work.  
  
Some of the rabbits seemed to take it as a challenge though, and to Fíli’s surprise Thorin actually ended up sitting in the grass holding a tiny kit in his big hands while the parents cooed encouragingly beside him. (Thorin looked uncharacteristically nervous but the miniature rabbit seemed happy enough and even gnawed companionably on the Dwarf’s thumb for a bit.)  
  
Bilbo’s eyes turned distinctively soft when he noticed what was going on and Fíli mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done.  
  
Bilbo might have done a smashing good job of fighting Orcs up on the cliff, but Hobbits _were_ creatures of comfort at the end of the day. And rabbits were a lot more comforting than Orcs no matter how you looked at it.  
  
During supper, Kíli (who had been hidden away with Dwalin somewhere for most of the day) finally decided to do something productive and _accidentally_ spilled his ale all over Thorin’s shirt.  
  
Fíli at least _thought_ it was about as accidental as the tendency of Thorin’s coat to end up all over Bilbo. His brother usually wasn’t that clumsy and he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.  
  
Kíli was very sorry of course, and in his attempt to wipe some of the wetness off of the shirt he ended up upending the rest of his tankard over Thorin’s back. (Fíli _really_ hoped this was on purpose)  
  
Torn between being wet and smelling like a brewery and going without the shirt Thorin chose the latter and ended supper with a bare chest and an enduring look on his face.  
  
Bilbo spent the remainder of his meal doing a decent impression of a tomato and dropping his fork pretty much whenever he looked in Thorin’s direction. After he’d finished eating he more or less ran away to his room, and Fíli did his best to not think about what he might or might not be doing there. Still, it was definitely a point in their favour. Enough of smouldering looks from Bilbo and Thorin had to notice, right?  
  
For now though Thorin was still being as observant as your average mole. Oh, he’d noticed the blush all right, but then something had gone wrong.  
  
Fíli had been seated between Óin and Bofur during the meal, so when Thorin stopped by to ask the healer if Bilbo might be getting sick Fíli had to hurriedly shove most of a pie inside his mouth to be able to keep quiet. The sacrifices one had to do withstand for the sake of true love (because really, Fíli was quite full already thank you)  
  
“He did note eat very much,” Thorin said gravely to Óin who looked at his king with intense concentration on his face. Though this was likely just him trying to hear what Thorin was saying and not really out of concern that Bilbo had taken ill. “And he was flushed, perhaps his wound has become infected and he is feverish.”  
  
Óin snorted.  
“There’s nothing festering in that _wound_ ,” he said and waved his hand dismissively. “And my eyes might be getting on in years, but I think I saw our burglar eat his fair share of the food.”  
  
“He kept dropping his fork,” Thorin said and crossed his arms. “Hands that shake are not a good sign after injuries.”  
  
Óin muttered something under his breath that would probably had been considered treason if he’d been audible. As it were Thorin’s normal frown turned into an outright glare.  
  
“Fine!” Óin grumpily took a piece of bread and shoved it in his mouth, probably to stop himself from talking too much. “I’ll see to him before we retire for the night.”  
  
After Thorin had gone Bofur leaned in and put his mouth next to Fíli’s ear.  
  
“You are ridiculous, you and your plots,” he whispered. “Lucky for you I'm strangely fond of ridiculous.”

Fíli beamed at him in response and Bofur shook his head and smiled in a way that Fíli hoped was fond amusement.  
  
"Think you'll have time between your plots to meet me in my room later?" Bofur asked quietly and took Fíli's hand. "If you can be quiet, that is."  
  
Fíli nodded, quite enthusiastically and rubbed his thumb over Bofur’s knuckles. He could be quiet. He could be very quiet.  
  
But could Bofur?  
  
“The grin you’re sporting makes me worry a bit,” Bofur said and narrowed his eyes.  
  
Fíli tried his very best to look innocent.  
  
"Well," he said. "I just realised  that it's _your_ brother that is going to tease _you_ if we're loud. Durins just look pained and stoic and avoid talking about such things."  
  
"And?" Bofur said and raised an eyebrow.  
  
Leaning in until his cheek touched Bofur's Fíli whispered:  
"So I'm thinking that my earlier plan of making you scream might still be a good one."  
  
The look Bofur gave him was half-challenge, half-potential-future-embarrassment, and   _completely_ smouldering, Fíli noted smugly as Bofur hopped down from the bench and dragged him away from the table. Maybe he could give Thorin lessons in how to recognize such a look. But later though. Much later.  
  
Just as they left the room Fíli remembered that they still had nothing slick. Damn.  
  
"Wait, wait," he said and untangled Bofur's hand from around his wrist. "Let me just..."  
  
A short dash to the table later and Fíli was back.  
  
"Okay, commence with the dragging again." Because the idea that Bofur just couldn't wait was quite something.  
  
"Butter?" Bofur said sceptically. “Will that really work?”  
  
“If it doesn’t,” Fíli said and started dragging Bofur along instead. “Then I’ll guess I’ll have to come up with a new plan. But don’t worry, I’m good with plans.”

 

Art by [Snittycakez](../../../users/Snittycakez/pseuds/Snittycakez)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with awesome art by SnittyCckez
> 
> http://snittycakez.deviantart.com/art/Bagginshield-and-Bunnies-Colored-363144949


	38. Blood Is Thicker - But Not If You're Too Thick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misconceptions get cleared up. Mostly because Bofur is awesome like that. Fíli really is trying though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg, it's alive! And by it, I mean me.
> 
> First there was Easter and I was busy with friends and family literally 24 hours a day (ok, not literally, I was sleeping for at least a few hours, but that was it)  
> Then I got sick, then work kicked my ass, and to sum it up, what I've written today is the first words I've written on a story since the last time I updated my other story. Phew. Hope you're still around to read it!

The next morning their host came back. Oh, and Gandalf too, from wherever he'd been hiding. But before those two events came to pass there was just Fíli and Bofur, waking up tangled together on Bofur’s bed. And when they’d tangled themselves together some more and then untangled again it was time for breakfast. Or rather, they had certainly worked up an appetite for it, but it was still quite early in the morning for all of that.  
  
When Fíli and Bofur walked into the main hall the only one there was Bilbo, who looked like he hadn’t really had much sleep.  
  
“Oh, tried,” Bilbo said when Fíli asked him. “But there was scraping, scuffling, snuffling, and growling right outside the entire night.”  
  
Fíli would never admit it, but his first thought had been to suspect Thorin. Because who else might be lurking outside Bilbo’s room? His second thought might have been to suspect himself and Bofur, not because _they_ had been lurking anywhere, but there might have been some growling and some scraping, and maybe even some scuffling (but surely there hadn’t been any snuffling?).  
  
“Outside your door?” Bofur asked and grabbed a piece of bread.  
  
“No, outside the walls. The _outer_ outside,” Bilbo said and dragged his hand through his hair, well, he tried to. But what happened was that he got stuck in the braid and then had to carefully try and get loose without ruining it. It didn’t really work and Bilbo was soon poking morosely at the remnants of Thorin’s braid in his hair; sighing when some wayward locks immediately started to hang down into his eyes.  
“I actually got up and went to ask the dogs about it, but they didn’t seem to be worried. But that didn’t make the noise any quieter.”  
  
“Huh,” Bofur said between chews. “I didn’t hear anything.”  
  
“At least it stopped eventually,” Bilbo said and sighed again which turned into a yawn.  
  
“Maybe you should go back to bed,” Fíli suggested. “It’s early still.”  
  
“No, no,” Bilbo said, flapping his hand dismissively. “Once I’m up, I’m up.” He then made a bit of a liar of himself by yawning again.  
  
“Sure,” Fíli agreed. “That’s why I could see into your stomach just now.”  
  
“My stomach is up as well, thank you,” Bilbo replied and reached with both hands to grab one of the big eggs placed in a bowl in the middle of the table. Fíli spared a thought to be grateful that Kíli was apparently still asleep. Seeing Bilbo knock the edge of the egg against the table to break the shell made something inside Fíli feel a bit weird. Kíli probably would like it even less.

Clearing his throat Fíli concentrated on his own breakfast, trying to ignore Bofur’s knowing smirk. So what if he didn’t want to watch Bilbo eat eggs. That didn’t have anything to do with anything. Fíli just wasn’t in the mood for eggs this morning.  
  
“Can I ask the two of you something?” Bilbo said after a while and the strained note in the Hobbit’s voice made Fíli turn his gaze back to Bilbo; who seemed to be very focused on peeling his egg. Fíli exchanged a quick glance with Bofur who shrugged before saying:

“Of course you can, is there something… wrong?”  
  
“No, nothing’s wrong,” Bilbo said hurriedly. “I just, I was wondering, and it’s probably a really stupid question, but – Oh, and I hope you won’t think it’s inappropriate.”  
  
Fíli put his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.  
  
“You have met our brothers,” Fíli said with a smile. “I doubt you can say something that is more inappropriate than what they put us through on a daily basis.”  
  
“Aye,” Bofur agreed with a wince. “That reminds me; let’s finish breakfast before Bombur gets up. I’m not looking forward to whatever comments will be forthcoming this morning.”  
  
Bilbo looked confused and Fíli snickered and patted Bilbo’s shoulder before resuming his breakfast.  
  
“Never mind,” he told their burglar. “But please, tell us what is on your mind?”  
  
Bilbo was quiet for a few moments more, appearing to be in the process of gathering his thoughts.  
  
“I don’t know very much about Dwarven customs,” Bilbo began slowly. “I was wondering about… well, about courting and marriage, and… such…”  
  
Fíli’s mind blanked for half-a moment. Was Bilbo finally going to admit that he had feelings for Thorin?  
  
“What about courting and _such_?” Bofur asked. “How to go about it?”  
  
“Well, not really. I- well, you both are courting. And Kíli and Dwalin are courting. And you are all male.”  
  
Fíli sighed. Please don’t let this be about what was proper again. He really thought whatever was thought proper or not in the Shire was something Bilbo would have left behind him once and for all.  
  
“Indeed we are,” Bofur said cautiously and Bilbo finally looked up from his egg with a bit of alarm in his eyes.  
  
“No, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it like that. Of course it’s fine, and of course you don’t need me to tell you that it’s fine.”  
  
“What did you mean then?” Fíli asked, curious – and a bit hopeful again. Maybe this _would_ be about Thorin after all.  
  
Exhaling Bilbo again tried to run his hand through his hair, cursing a little when he this time found himself clutching Thorin’s bead in his hand. “I knew I would muck this up,” he muttered and Fíli wondered if he meant the braid or the conversation. “I’m sorry, it’s just, well, we’ve already established that two males, or two female for that matter, being together is not all that common in the Shire.”  
  
“And neither is going on adventures,” Fíli smiled, which turned into a grin when Bilbo’s lips twitched up into a smile.  
  
“Exactly,” Bilbo agreed. “But Bofur told me that it’s normal with Dwarfs, and I was just wondering if that meant that meant that you two will be getting married? And Kíli and Dwalin too?”  
  
“I would not speak for my brother and Dwalin,” Fíli said. “But I’ll not be surprised if they would marry.”  
  
“And as for us,” Bofur continued and took Fíli’s hand. “It’s a yes.”  
  
“I should tell Thorin about it today,” Fíli murmured and curled his fingers around Bofur’s. “And Kíli. I would have done it yesterday but the right moment did not appear.”  
  
Or rather, he’d been a little distracted with the new steps of his plan to do it. But it wasn’t like Thorin or Kíli would object in any way, it was just the correct thing to do; to inform your family when someone had agreed to marry you. Especially when one of those were also your King and the one who would actually be doing the ceremony when it came to that…  
  
“Congratulations,” Bilbo said and smiled at them, but it was a slightly wistful smile.  
  
“I’m guessing that is another thing that is not proper in the Shire?” Bofur said and Fíli squeezed his hand.  
  
“You could say that,” Bilbo agreed and sighed. “And you’d be entirely correct. Though I’m very happy for the both of you, of course. Truly.”  
  
“Why isn’t it considered proper, in the Shire I mean?” Fíli asked.  
  
“Ah,” Bilbo said and clasped his hands together as to avoid them tangling in his hair. “That actually ties in to part of my question. Family is very important for Hobbits, and marriage is the beginning of having one of your own. The start of settling down and having children. Usually lots of them. But since you are both male…” Bilbo trailed off and looked a little embarrassed.  
  
“We can’t have children together, no,” Bofur filled and moved a little closer to Fíli. Fíli was a little torn between feeling disappointed (because since Bilbo assumed that two males could not have children, male Hobbits likely could not carry young either and that meant a lack of cousins in his future) and _relieved_ (because male Hobbits could not get knocked up by male uncles and now Kíli would have to give the Dwobbit and/or Horf thing a rest).  
  
“But you are Thorin’s heir,” Bilbo said and looked at Fíli. “And-“ then Bilbo clammed up.  
  
Fíli was confused. Did Bilbo think that _Thorin_ could somehow bear children and that Fíli should also be able to do that since they were kin? He was just about to say something along those lines when Bofur hmmed and said:  
  
“You’re wondering why no one is upset about the order of succession,” Bofur said and pulled on one of his braids thoughtfully. Fíli quickly shut his mouth. Ah, of course that is what Bilbo had meant…  
  
Bilbo shot a sidelong glance at Fíli and the look was half-embarrassed, half-apologetic and Fíli felt confused again. It was hardly the sort of question that required that sort of look.  
  
“See, I read a book and- Valar help me, there’s no way I’m going to be able to say this in a way that is not offensive.” Bilbo scrubbed a hand down his face. “In this book, there was a king, oh, a king of Men, but a king nonetheless. And he had no children. But his brother had a son and the king made him his heir. But then the king got married and had a son. And the king, eh, murdered his brother and his nephew so they couldn’t take the throne. And I’m _not_ saying Thorin would murder anyone, but- oh I need to stop talking now.” Bilbo took a large bite out of his half-peeled egg, luckily from the already bare side.  
  
Fíli was now very, very confused. Did this mean that Bilbo _could_ have children since he was so worried about Thorin becoming a father and not-murdering Fíli. He looked to Bofur for help, hoping Bilbo’s ramble had made more sense to him.

“I think I see what has you confused,” Bofur said and Fíli let out a sigh of relief and turned back to Bilbo again. (He was so lucky to have Bofur.)  
“The succession when it comes to Dwarven rulers is not like the one in human kingdoms. Fíli isn't Thorin's heir just because he is Thorin's closest relative in the next generation. He is the heir because Thorin think he is the best suited."  
  
The pride in Bofur’s voice meant that Fíli just _had_ to turn back to Bofur to give him a grin (which would have been a kiss if not for Bofur being in the middle of an explanation).

“But what about the line of Durin?” a frowning Bilbo asked as he tapped his fingers on the table. Now, this was a question that Fíli felt more comfortable answering.  
  
“The line of Durin is not _a_ line as much as several lines,” Fíli explained. “The entire company apart from Bofur, Bifur and Bombur are descendants of Durin. Glóin’s son has just as much claim to the throne of Erebor as I do if we’re just going by blood. ”  
  
“But unlike Men we don’t do it that way,” Bofur said and wrapped his arm around Fíli who nodded.  
  
“If I become king I will name an heir just as Thorin named me,” Fíli explained. “And if Thorin would think that I was no longer suited to be his heir then he would not have to _murder_ me.” Fíli rolled his eyes. “He could just name someone else his heir.”  
  
“Not going to happen,” Bofur murmured.  
  
“I see,” Bilbo said, even if he sounded that he didn’t really.  
  
They ate quietly for a while.  
  
“Hang on,” Bilbo said suddenly. “Does this mean that _Glóin_ could have been king instead of Thorin?” Immediately after saying the words the Hobbit’s eyes widened and he flushed. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he finished weakly and took a new bite out of the egg when Fíli burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that Bilbo working through this silly notion that Thorin has to get married will lead to great things... lol, stupid thing to say considering that I'm the authour, but Bilbo and Thorin have already proven themselves to be remarkably stubborn.


	39. Grin And Bear It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in the truth about Beorn comes out and Fíli is a bit of a brat again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title is an aweful pun, but hey, you should be getting used to my bad jokes by now.
> 
> You will probably recognize quite a bit from this chapter as borrowed from the book. I’m still not J.R.R Tolkien though. Just a fan who thinks the lines/words he gave the characters are too awesome not to use.

When they’d finished breakfast some of the others in the company had started to stir as well, though Bombur was not one of them, _yet_.

So Bofur grabbed Fíli and they made their escape. Or well, Bofur made his escape, and a snickering Fíli was more or less dragged along.

“You know, you will have to face your brother sooner or later.”  
  
“Later then,” Bofur replied and peeked around the corner before darting down the corridor leading to the kitchens.   
  
“Maybe you should have been quieter,” Fíli said innocently as he followed Bofur. “Hey, are we going to the kitchens to get more butter?”  
  
“We are getting something to have for lunch because that is at least how long we’ll be hiding,” Bofur said and mock-glared at Fíli. The corners' his eyes crinkled though, so Fíli just smiled back.  
  
“This is a whole new side of you,” Fíli observed. “I didn’t think you’d be running away from danger.”  
  
“Danger, no. Embarrassment, yes. Bombur, most definitely…”  
  
As they entered the kitchens they found their missing host! Who well, was no longer missing. 

“So you here still!” Beorn boomed from where he was sitting on the floor next to the dogs. Even though he was seated and Fíli and Bofur was standing up, Beorn’s head was still at a level with theirs. “I hope you have been finding your stay so far pleasant.”   
  
“Indeed we have,” Fíli said and tried to read Beorn’s face. He seemed happy enough, so the bit about their stay ‘so far’ was probably just politeness, and not a threat that their time from now would be _less_ pleasant. “We are very grateful to you, and your friends, for allowing us to rest here.”  
  
“Ah, it is my pleasure,” Beorn said and smiled widely. “But let’s talk more about that over breakfast.” He rose to his feet with a grace that was surprising to see in someone of that size.  
  
“We have actually already eaten,” Bofur said and cast a somewhat nervous glance backwards, as if Bombur could any minute jump out and start teasing him.  
  
“Then eat some more,” Beorn said and shrugged. “You all look like you could use it, especially the smallest one of you. The little bunny.”  
  
‘ _Bunny_?’Fíli mouthed at Bofur as they followed their host back to the main hall. Bofur shrugged and pulled his hat further down his face in a feeble attempt to hide himself from Bombur.  
  
When they walked into the hall Fíli and Bofur got the second surprise of the morning, because seated at the table together with what seemed to be the rest of the company, was none other than Gandalf who none of them had seen for over a day.   
  
Bilbo was the only one not actually seated by the table, as it seemed he had finished breakfast. He held his pipe in one of his hands and it looked like he had just been about to go outside for a smoke.   
  
When Beorn saw the hobbit he grinned and went over to pick him up.  
  
Fíli blinked.   
  
The rest of the Dwarfs stared, except for Thorin who might have growled a bit and accidentally bent the fork he was holding.   
  
Gandalf - as usual, observed everything with an air of amusement lingering about him.

“Little bunny is getting nice and fat again on bread and honey,” Beorn chuckled and poked a finger into Bilbo's stomach. “Come and have some more!”  
  
It was clear that Bilbo didn’t quite know how to act. Beorn was now cradling him in his arms much as one would with… well a bunny. The Hobbit patted Beorn’s forearm a bit hesitantly.  
  
“Yes, I- ah, thank you? I can walk though.”  
  
“Please set Mister Baggins down,” Thorin said between clenched teeth and Beorn chuckled. One large step brought him to the table and there he carefully dropped Bilbo on an empty spot at one of the benches. Bilbo quickly righted himself and seemed to be none the worse for wear. Dwalin pushed a plate of muffins his way and the Hobbit shrugged and grabbed a couple.  
  
Beorn went around the table to sit in the big armchair that stood at the end of it, and Fíli and Bofur sat themselves down between Kíli and Glóin as they had shifted to make room for them. Kíli leaned over to hiss into Fíli’s ear.  
  
“ _Bunny_?”  
  
Fíli raised one shoulder in a half-shrug.  
  
“Well, I guess he is pretty small, and he has hairy feet.”  
  
“Oh, pointy ears,” Kíli whispered thoughtfully and gazed at their burglar who was now munching on a muffin, oblivious to the brothers’ discussion as well as the way Thorin was itching to go over and make sure his burglar had not been hurt.  
  
They did not have to wait long to find out where Beorn had been or why he was in such a splendid mood.

“It was a good story you told me when you arrived at my door,” Beorn said and traded a look with Gandalf. “But I like it better now I am sure it is true.”  
  
 _This_ caused Thorin to finally stop glowering at their host.  
  
“You must forgive my not taking your word,” Beorn said and swept his arms out, almost hitting Bombur in the head. “If you lived near the edge of Mirkwood, you would take the word of no one that you did not know as well as your brother or better. As it is, I can only say that I have hurried home as fast as I could to see that you were safe, and to offer you any help that I can.”  
  
Beorn went on to tell them that he had travelled over the river and up into the mountains. He had seen the cliffside where they had faced the Orcs, though Azog and the pack seemed to have moved on. More importantly, to Beorn at least, he had found a Goblin scout and the creature had confirmed that the Goblin King was indeed dead.  
  
“I shall think more kindly of dwarves after this,” Beorn said and chuckled fiercely.

“What did you do with the Goblin?” Bilbo asked suddenly. Fíli was more interested in how Beorn had managed to travel to the Misty Mountains and back so quickly. He had not done the journey on the back of a giant Eagle, but even so the Man must have kept a very fast pace indeed.   
  
It seemed Nori was thinking much the same thing, because before Beorn could answer the pointy haired Dwarf piped up:  
  
“Better question is how you managed to get there and back here so fast. How'd you do it?”  
  
Beorn looked at Gandalf and raised an bushy eyebrow. “You have not told them?”  
  
“I thought it be best not to say anything until they got to know you and your friends a little better,” Gandalf said mildly.   
  
Beorn grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘ _Wizards’_ and then suddenly there was a huge brown bear sitting in the seat that had only seconds before been occupied by a Man. Fíli’s hand instinctively went for the axe he would normally have strapped to his back, but before it could close on air (since the axe was lying inside the room he’d been given) the armchair again held the (slightly) less alarming form of Beorn. Or, as Fíli realised, at least a (slightly) less hairy form of him.  
  
“That’s how I did it,” the Man said and smiled at Nori. “And the reason that you needed to stay inside the first night you were here was that I held a meeting with the bears of the forest and they sometimes are a little less than well-behaved. I needed escorts to the mountain to be sure of a safe journey.”  
  
As one all the Dwarfs and the Hobbit turned to glare at Gandalf.  
  
“Would you really have slept better that night if you had known the truth?” The Wizard said and stroked his beard.  
  
“Let us not argue,” Beorn said and clapped his hands once. “Let us _eat_ and talk about what I may do to help you on your journey. A journey, I might add, with a goal I have yet to hear about. But if you could let me know what supplies you might need then I will pay that no mind, and we will still part as friends.”  
  
Thorin exchanged a glance with Dwalin and then with Balin. The brothers seemed a little indecisive but finally they both nodded. So Thorin told Beorn about their mission to reclaim Erebor and how their quest would now take them through Mirkwood, and Gandalf smiled proudly as if Thorin had done something very remarkable. Which, fair point, Fíli's uncle kind of had. Fíli guessed Thorin figured that Beorn would be able to help them more if he knew just exactly what they were doing and where they were going.  
  
Beorn promised that he would find a pony for each of them, and a horse for Gandalf, and the animals would take them safely to the edge of the forest. Then they would have to turn back again.   
  
“Mirkwood is a dark, difficult place,” Beorn said, his good mood a little diminished. “Something wicked dwells inside it, and I would not have my friends go too near.”  
  
Beorn would also give them enough food to last them for weeks (if Bilbo and Bombur could restrain themselves). Water would not be necessary to carry with them until they entered the woods as there would be streams and springs along the road, but once they had entered Mirkwood, water would become a more urgent problem than food would be.

“What I will send with you won’t spoil, so if you just take care to ration it will keep you going,” Beorn explained. “But inside the forest water won’t be easy to find, at least not water that is safe to drink. I will provide you with skins for carrying water, and you’d do best to fill them when you bide my friends farewell at the border. I doubt very much that you will find anything wholesome to drink in Mirkwood.”  
  
He looked at Thorin and the Man’s eyes were troubled.  
  
“There is one stream there, that I know of. And if you take the path I’ll advice you will have to cross it. But you should not drink of it, or bathe in it, because I have heard that it carries enchantment and a great drowsiness and forgetfulness.”  
  
“Is there no other path then?” Thorin asked.  
  
“None that are safer,” Beorn said and shook his head. “And you must _not_ stray from the path, for any reason. That is the best advice I can give you and I hope you will heed it. Beyond the edge of the forest I cannot help you much; you must depend on your luck and your courage and the food I send with you. But my house is open to you, if ever you come back this way again. I will hope that you do.”  
  
Fíli took Bofur’s hand and exchanged a worried glance with Kíli. Apparently the worst was not yet behind them. Bilbo looked a little pale and it was quite possible that he too remembered the words he'd said on top of the Carrock.  
  
-  
  
After breakfast, (second breakfast for some of them,) they all followed Beorn outside and to the gate.  
  
“There is the Goblin you asked about,” Beorn said to Bilbo and gestured to the top of one of the gate posts.  
  
Bilbo blanched a little when he saw the head of the Goblin stuck to the gate but most of the Dwarfs nodded approvingly.  
  
Fíli caught Thorin’s arm as they turned to go back to the house.  
  
“How long will we be staying?” he asked is uncle. “It is still months until Durin’s Day, and I think a little more rest would do us all good.”  
  
“Better we be early than late,” Thorin said sternly, though he relented a little when Fíli cast a meaningful glance at Thorin’s bruises (Thorin’s clothes still had yet to make an appearance). “We will stay two more nights. But then we must leave.”  
  
Fíli nodded. “I can tell the others. I think you have something more urgent to do.”  
  
Thorin looked quizzically at Fíli.  
  
“Have you not noticed that Bilbo’s braid has unravelled?” Fíli said and smiled at his uncle. “Someone should really help him out or he might cut it after all.”  
  
And while Thorin would be occupied with that task, Fíli could collect his clothes and then bring them outside to ‘find’ them. He was truly excellent at plans.  
  
Fíli did not even try to look innocent when Thorin glowered at him, instead he just smiled brighter and nodded again at his uncle before going to find Kíli. _Someone_ was going to have to keep an eye on the pair while Fíli was busy finding Thorin’s clothes. Maybe this would be the time they both stopped being silly about their feelings. If a Man could turn into a bear surely even stranger things could happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would not be surprised if in PJ's movie Gandalf *won't* let the company know that Beorn is a shapeshifter while they are on their way to him. I can totally see a more dramatic reveal happening. (honestly, they have to fill the time with something ;)) In the book there is a lot of telling and not as much showing, going on, and I think PJ has already shown he won't exactly follow that.
> 
> lol, whatever'll happen it'll probably be less cracky than this though. Still, if it happens like this, I want bonus points ;)


	40. Braiding Bilbo, Hidden Bofur (Grumpy Fíli)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in Fíli has a mild case of separation anxiety and where SOMETHING FINALLY HAPPENS :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, anyone who can save me from my title is a star. I had no clue what to put, so I just based it on Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon as that was the first thing that came to mind for some reason, and I don't think I like it (the title)

Fíli peeked around the corner. The coast appeared to be clear. Only a rabbit was around and it would tell. But that reminded him… Making sure he had a good grip on Thorin’s clothes Fíli whistled softly to get the rabbits attention.  
  
The rabbit’s ears perked up and the little thing hopped over to Fíli.  
  
“Hi,” Fíli said and smiled down. “Were you by any chance one of the rabbits I talked to yesterday? About my uncle?”  
  
The rabbit nodded and it almost looked like it was smiling.  
  
“Do you think you have the time to do the same thing today? Follow him around for a bit when Bilbo is around?”  
  
The rabbit nodded again and patted Fíli’s boot before hopping away. Fïli chuckled and continued his attempt to get outside without anyone seeing him. He quite liked the rabbits.  
  
A short while later Thorin’s clothes had been deposited in a bush outside and Fíli’s mood was good enough for him to even smile at one of the sheep when it wandered by.  
  
He had forced himself not to think about their leaving in a couple of days.  
  
For the moment there was just them being here, and there was still plenty of time to get his uncle to stop being stupid, as well as time to spend with Bofur. Butter optional. Because really, that had maybe been a bit _too_ messy. It was quite possible that they would have to relocate to his room tonight instead of continuing to sleep (and not sleep) in Bofur’s.  But there was still plenty of fun to be had until they managed to get their hands on some oil. At least if Bombur didn’t tease Bofur enough for him to refuse out of sheer principal. Although they could always go back out to the bees, Fíli supposed. Once they left Beorn’s house there would be no more privacy for quite a long time.  
  
Shaking his head Fíli tried to shake off the gloomy thoughts as well. He was _not_ going to think about going into a forest that seemed to make even their host uncomfortable. Not today. Today was a day for more pleasant things. Like telling Thorin that he and Bofur would get married when they arrived to Erebor. Plus, this gave him a reason to go looking for his uncle. Thorin should be done with the braid by now and Fíli was curious if something had come out of this second go around. The pair of them would have to get pretty close together after all, and while it probably wasn’t as effective as a small room with a locked door would be, it was _something_.  
  
-  
Fíli had to literally bite his tongue to keep from saying something when he walked into the main hall to find Bilbo braiding Thorin’s hair. Seriously, this was starting to be ridiculous. If those two didn’t catch a clue this very _day_ , Fíli was going to go around the bend and scream at the both of them until they did catch on. He couldn’t take this anymore.  
  
On the left side of Thorin’s head there was three fairly uneven and lumpy braids. Then it seemed Bilbo had caught on a bit, because the following braids _did_ look a lot better.  
  
Bilbo’s own hair was back to the one neat braid that had been present the day before, again finished with Thorin’s bead.  
  
Fíli would describe the look on the Hobbit’s face as intensely focused. Bilbo was muttering softly as he plaited the strands of hair together and his brow was furrowed in concentration. Apprently braiding was not something he was used to. The look on Thorin’s face – which Bilbo didn’t see as he was standing behind Fíli’s uncle, was best described as tortured; but loving it. It actually made Fíli a bit uncomfortable and he quickly looked away.  
  
Scanning the room Fíli came to the conclusion that Kíli was not in it. Dammit. Didn’t he understand that Thorin and Bilbo needed watching and careful prompting or things like this would just keep happening instead of them actually talking about their feelings?  
  
Fíli sighed and it made both Thorin and Bilbo look over to where he was standing.  
  
“Nice work,” Fíli offered and walked over to them, forcing what he hoped was a cheerful smile.  
  
“Thank you, but no,” Bilbo said a bit glumly. “I don’t know how you manage, my fingers are smaller than yours but I can’t seem to get this to look even half-way decent.” He accidentally pulled a little too hard on Thorin’s hair and Fíli winced a little in sympathy. Thorin did not react at all except for a slight tightening in his shoulders.  
  
“I don’t have any sisters, so I’ve never actually learnt how to braid,” Bilbo muttered. “Oh, not that braids are for girls. Obviously not. I mean, you both- And I’m shutting up.”  
  
“At least you are learning now?” And Fíli hadn’t actually meant for that to come out as a question, but _why_ was Bilbo practising braiding on Thorin in the first place?  
  
Realising that the quickest way to get an answer was to actually ask a question Fíli did so.  
  
“Thorin has been kind enough to braid my hair,” Bilbo replied and glared at the back of Thorin’s head when the hair wouldn’t co-operate. “And it seems only fair that I could offer the same to him, or that I learn to braid my own so-“  
  
“It is not a bother,” Thorin interrupted. “I’m happy to do it.”  
  
Fíli just managed to keep himself from snorting. Of _course_ Thorin was happy to do it. In thirty years he would probably still be happy to do it, because that was how long it would take for them to catch a bloody _clue_.  
  
If only Bilbo was a Dwarf. Then he’d known how big of a deal it was that Thorin would allow Bilbo to braid his hair. Whose idea was it in the first place to keep as much as possible about their people secret? It seemed a bit backwards really now that he thought about it. Maybe he could get Ori to write a guide or something. ‘Ten Handy Tips For When You Want To Court A Dwarf.’ Or maybe ‘How To Know When You Are Being Courted By A Dwarf.’ Or both. He really wanted to just be able to give both to Bilbo. He wanted to have been able to give them to Bilbo about two weeks into their quest actually, but maybe that was asking for too much.  
  
“Maybe I should just go ask Beorn if he has a pair of scissors somewhere,” Bilbo sighed and touched one hand to his braid. “It’s hardly practical - or fair - of me to expect you to keep braiding it.”  
  
“As I said,” Thorin rumbled. “I don’t mind. It does not trouble me to do so.”  
  
Bilbo smiled slightly and reached out a hand as if he was going to stroke Thorin’s hair, but a the last second he sighed and instead began another attempt at a braid. And of course the action went by completely unnoticed by Thorin.  
  
“Have any of you seen Ori?” Fíli asked.  
  
After all, it wouldn’t hurt to ask about the chance of getting that book written. Quickly.  
  
-  
  
A few hours later Fíli’s good mood was hanging on a very thin thread.  
  
First of all, Ori had completely refused to help, even going as far as presenting a list of reasons why he wouldn’t write such a book (beginning with it being against the rules of the wager, followed by him not having the paper for it, and ending after a bunch of other reasons with how Dori wouldn’t approve of him revealing so much about their culture to outsiders).  
  
“Bilbo is hardly an outsider, is he,” Fíli had said between slightly clenched teeth. Ori did look a bit guilty then.

“No, but a book could be read by anyone,” he protested. “Unless I write it in Khuzdul, and that would defeat the purpose of it, wouldn’t it.”  
  
And that had mostly been that.  
  
Dejected Fíli had gone to look for Bofur, but he had been nowhere to be found. Probably hiding somewhere from Bombur – someone else Fíli was not able to locate (he wanted to, because he figured that if he knew where Bombur was he could look in the opposite direction for Bofur).  
  
And Bofur and Bombur turned out to not be the only two gone missing. Not being able to find Bofur, Fíli had remembered that he had been looking for Thorin and Kíli to tell them about his and Bofur's plans to get married, only he couldn’t find neither brother nor uncle. Thorin and Bilbo had disappeared from the main hall, but Mahal knew they probably hadn’t disappeared to the same place.  
  
No one of the others had seen any of Fíli’s missing family, or rather, they had _seen_ them, but they had no idea where they went after that. Apparently Thorin had found his clothes though.  
  
“They were in the bush just over there,” Balin said drily and pointed to a bush just a short distance away from where Bilbo had hung the clothes to dry the day before. “It is interesting how none of us saw them yesterday.”  
  
“Maybe it was the wind,” Fíli said innocently. “It could have blown them away and then blown them back there later.”  
  
Balin had just hummed non-committedly and gone back to petting the rabbits that had piled up in his lap.  
  
The rabbits hadn’t seen where Bofur, Thorin and Kíli had gone either, and neither had the dogs or the ponies when Fíli asked them.  
  
“I don’t suppose you could sniff them out?” Fíli asked one of the dogs. The dog just huffed and flicked one ear at him. He took that to mean _no_.  
  
Finally, _finally_ , about two hours after he'd begun to look, he came across Kíli in the corridor just down the hall from Bofur’s room.  
  
“Where have you been?” Fíli hissed. “Never mind, I guess the answer is ‘with Dwalin’ and I don’t really want any details.”  
  
“Is there something wrong?” Kíli asked. “Did something happen.”  
  
“No!” Fíli exclaimed. “Nothing has happened, and that is the problem.”  
  
“Oookay,” Kíli said and clasped Fíli’s shoulder. “Something is obviously wrong, what is it.”  
  
“Nothing is wrong,” Fíli said a bit sulkily. “But this was such a good morning and then everything went wrong. Bofur disappeared. You disappeared. Thorin and Bilbo was acting like clueless sheep, and then they disappeared as well. And all I wanted was to tell Thorin that Bofur and I want to get married. But instead I found him and Bilbo being busy pretending that they are not in love and then I had to worry that maybe the sheep had kidnapped you or something.”  
  
“Now!?” Kíli asked with wide-eyes. "I mean, the marrying bit, not the sheep, and what do you have against the sheep anyway. But _now_? I thought you wanted to get married in Erebor?"  
  
“No.” Fíli dragged a hand down his face. “I mean yes, not now. Later, when we get Erebor. If I ever find Thorin and tell him, because we rather need him to do the ceremony.”  
  
“Oh.” Kíli blinked before a wide smile split his face. “Congratulations, again I guess, brother!” he said and wrapped his arms around Fíli.  
  
“Thank you,” Fíli said and hugged Kíli back, though he was still feeling a bit annoyed. Maybe it was childish and silly of him, but he had not at all appreciated not being able to find the three people that meant the most to him. It didn’t matter that they should all be safe while staying with Beorn. Something inside of him would not relax until he had found Bofur and Thorin as well.  
  
As it turned out, finding Thorin would not be a problem. When Fíli and Kíli broke apart from the hug Fíli saw something moving  out of the corner of his eye.

It was their uncle, indeed now fully dressed, and he was walking down the corridor holding a bouquet of _flowers_. Fíli shot a glance at Kíli who was watching their uncle with a stunned look on his face, his mouth slightly open in shock. Okay, so at least that meant that Fíli wasn’t _hallucinating_.  
  
Fíli recognized the daisies, but he wasn’t sure what the red ones were called. He did however have a suspicion that they had been served something similar looking during their brief stay in Rivendell. Not that it mattered, what mattered was that Thorin was finally making a move. Incredible. A romantic gesture from Thorin!  
  
Fíli believed that brought the total up to… _one_. If you didn’t the thing with the coat, but as Bilbo had been mostly unaware of that happening it probably shouldn’t count.

However, as awesome as this new development was, there was still cause for some concern. Thorin was frowning and looking almost angry. Why? Had the bees stung him when he’d picked the flowers? Wasn’t he able to find Bilbo? Had he found Bilbo and been told that the flowers had declared his intent to do unspeakable things to Bilbo’s dead mother? Surely the Hobbit would have been able to look beyond such a thing. The daisies and whatever the red things were called were very pretty after all.  
  
Thorin stalked up to his nephews and thrust the flowers in front of their faces.  
  
“I’m sure you found it very amusing, but I do not share this opinion.”  
  
Fíli and Kíli exchanged a confused glance.  
  
“What exactly did we do, uncle?” Fíli asked.  
  
“I am not a fool,” Thorin growled. “I know it was not the wind that took my clothes, and I have not missed the abundance of rabbits that have followed me around either, but this was going a step to far.”  
  
Fíli searched his head for what they could have done that would upset Thorin so. His brother appeared to be doing the same. The only other thing they had done recently was explaining to Bilbo that Thorin was not going to marry just for the purpose of having a Queen or a child. But that hardly seemed like it would cause offence.  
  
“I don’t know why you did those things, or what purpose you thought it would serve to leave flowers in my room, but I order you to stop. I do not find it funny, and I would have thought you were both old enough to have grown beyond pranks like this.” Thorin pushed the flowers into Fíli’s arms before storming off, once again in a very regal manner seeing as he was no longer half-naked.  
  
“Kíli, did you-?”  
  
“No!” Kíli protested. “And if I would have, I would have left them in Bilbo’s rooms. There’s a much better chance of him falling for it and doing something about it.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what I think as well,” Fíli agreed. “But I didn’t  leave anything in Thorin’s room either.”  
  
“But-“ Kíli began before frowning and falling silent for a few moments. “If you didn’t do it-”

“And if you didn’t do it either-“ Fíli interjected.  
  
“Then…”  
  
“It must have been-“  
  
“ _Bilbo_ ,” they both chorused.  
  
They looked at each other in silence for a second.  
  
“Thorin!”

“Uncle, wait!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, a cliff-hanger. We do love those, don’t we?
> 
> At least Fíli won’t have to scream at anyone. I think.


	41. Interlude - The Course Of True Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in - **[Summary has been censored as to not give away spoilers about what will happen.]**

Ignoring how his nephews called for him Thorin marched off down the corridor. He really had expected better of them. He didn’t know what they thought all their pranks would amount to, and he didn’t really care to know. It was unlikely that they were done with any sort of malicious intent, but still, it was getting tiring. Not to mention trying. For just a moment, when he had first seen the flowers, he had thought… but no, that was not going to happen was it.  
  
Because what reason had Bilbo to leave him flowers?  
  
No, it was obviously Fíli and Kíli thinking they were funny in some obscure way. It would not be the first time Thorin found weird objects in his quarters. The most memorable of such an incident was when the boys had managed to smuggle a horse into his rooms in Ered Luin.  
  
In hindsight it had been quite a feat; to get the animal inside without anyone noticing, but at the time Thorin had been a little less admiring and a little more angry. (The horse had been mentally deficient in some way and had spent most of its time in Thorin’s rooms nibbling at his bed clothes.)  
  
When he had asked the boys _why_ they had done it they had looked at each other and then declared that it seemed like a good idea at the time.  
  
Maybe he and Dís should have been a _little_ less lenient with the boys, but after Vídar died all Thorin wanted was to see his nephews smile again. And as such, he had to suffer through such incidents as a horse eating his covers.  
  
Fíli and Kíli likely thought that they had good reasons this time as well, but as usual, he expected those reasons to be beyond his comprehension.  
  
“Thorin, you have to listen to us.” Kíli had caught up with him, Fíli was a few steps behind.  “We _didn’t_ place the flowers in your room.”  
  
“Just as you didn’t have anything to do with the disappearance of my clothes?” Thorin asked and kept walking. He was going to go back to his room and spend the next hour or so pretending that he had left Fíli and Kíli in Ered Luin with their mother.  
  
“I didn’t have _anything_ to do with that,” Kíli protested.  
  
“And your little accident with your drink was of course just an accident,” Thorin scoffed. The guilty silence from Kíli made him shake his head. “I thought not.”  
  
“Please, uncle,” Fíli said and put his right hand on Thorin’s arm to stop him (Fíli was still clutching the flowers with his left). “We never lie to you, why would we not speak the truth about this?”  
  
Thorin looked searchingly at Fíli.  
  
“Who then?” he demanded. “Because I know no others in the company who have a history of leaving random objects in my rooms, much less flowers.”  
  
Fíli elbowed Kíli.  
  
“I told you we’d regret the business with the horse,” he hissed to this brother.  
  
“Uncle, I swear to you we did not do it,” Kíli said earnestly. “But we do think we know who did it.”  
  
Thorin crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow inquiringly.  
  
“We think,” Fíli began. “That Bilbo left the flowers.”  
  
Thorin couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. (It wasn’t a huge belly rumbling laugh, more like a sequence of  chuckles,  but for Thorin that was practically rolling around on the floor with tears streaming down his face)  
  
Fíli and Kíli exchanged a worried glance.  
  
“No,” Thorin said when he’d calmed down. He looked at the flowers in Fíli's hand, they appeared to be starting to wilt a little. “I’m willing to believe that _you_ didn’t leave them, but that our burglar would have? I think not.” Thorin smiled a little wryly. Because while Bilbo seemed to have forgiven him for acting like a thick-headed berk there was quite the gap between that and giving Thorin flowers of courting.  
  
Yes, he _had_ been listening back when Bilbo and Ori had been talking about Hobbit customs. He also seemed to remember that Hobbits were supposed to make _crowns_ of the flowers. The ones he had found had just been placed in a big tankard filled with water.  
  
“No,” Thorin continued. “He couldn’t have given me these. He-“  
  
“But I did leave them.”  
  
Thorin snapped his mouth shut when none other than Bilbo stepped out from around the corner.  
  
“I thought- I can see that they were not- well received.” Bilbo chuckled once, but it was not a happy sound. “I know that it’s silly, and stupid, that someone like me- But I guess it really is unthinkable to you.” Sad hazel eyes met Thorin’s briefly before glancing down at the flowers Fíli held. “Please accept my apologies.” And before Thorin could even gather his mind together enough to remember what speech even was, Bilbo was gone.  
  
“Believe us now?” Fíli asked and held out the flowers.  
  
-  
  
Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ , Bilbo reproached himself as he walked away from Thorin (and Fíli and Kíli, though the boys was not exactly his current focuse).  
  
So many times when he was picking the flowers he had almost stopped himself, but it had seemed like a _sign_ when he had stumbled onto a patch of white daisies and red carnations earlier. Daisies for loyal and true love and the carnations for admiration.  
  
He had been walking around aimlessly after Thorin had finally tired of him messing up the braids (little did Bilbo know that the only reason Thorin had put a stop to the braiding was because there was a limit to how long a Dwarf could stand to have the hands of their beloved carding through their hair without kissing the other person senseless) and lost in his thoughts and in the memory of Thorin’s warm body so close to his own Bilbo had suddenly found himself quite the distance away from Beorn’s house. Thankfully there had been no bees around.  
  
Looking down at the beautiful red and white flowers Bilbo had chewed on his bottom lip, completely torn between two warring instincts.  
  
Thorin really seemed to have accepted Bilbo as one in the company. As a _friend_ even. He had been so patient when instructing Bilbo in how to make a proper braid, and he hadn’t said a word when Bilbo occasionally tugged a little too hard or got caught in a snag. (Normally Bilbo was not clumsy enough to do either of those things more than once, but really, could anyone blame him for being a little distracted when being close enough to Thorin to feel the warmth of him like a brand all along Bilbo’s front? Not to mention being so close that he could smell Thorin’s hair – which no longer smelled like Goblins and instead rather reminded Bilbo about clovers.)  
  
Not to mention the offer to braid Bilbo’s hair in the first place. Bilbo reached up to run his fingers down the braid that kept his hair out of his eyes, caressing the silver clasp that held it together.  
  
One part of him wanted to do nothing that could destroy this newfound friendship with Thorin, but another part of him wanted to be daring, risky and take stupid chances; wanted him to show to Thorin that friendship wasn’t really _all_ that Bilbo hoped for with the Dwarf.  
  
In the end he had picked the flowers, he had arranged them in a pretty bouquet and he had left them in glass of water inside Thorin’s room. It was not the bravest course of actions, but Bilbo would rather fight that horrible Goblin again (only this time without falling down at the end) compared to making a crown and actually _giving_ it to Thorin. (One couldn’t make a crown and simply leave it in someone’s room. What if Thorin wouldn’t even get back to the room before it wilted!)  
  
By leaving the flowers as he’d done he would have the chance to judge how Thorin felt about getting flowers in the first place, and if Thorin would realise that it was _Bilbo_ who had left them it would be a very good sign as it would mean Thorin thought about him and courting at the same time.  
  
If Thorin _didn’t_ realise who had left the flowers, well, that was not quite as good. But at least that gave Bilbo time to work up enough courage to actually declare himself properly. It was all he had been able to think about ever since Fíli had told him that Thorin was not going to have to marry some Dwarven woman just to have a baby. That Thorin would not need to do such a thing meant that there was a chance, however small, that there was a _possibility_ that Thorin would consider a relationship with a Hobbit who definitely was as far away from a queen as was possible to even imagine.  
  
Small chances and low odds seemed to be what Bilbo lived for these days, but that was what going on adventures was sure to bring you.

However, it still hurt to realise that the chance was apparently small enough to not even exist.  
  
Bilbo had been coming down the hallway when he’d heard Thorin talking, and when he’d heard the word _flowers_ he’d slowed his pace and taken care to tread more softly. It wasn’t eavesdropping exactly, it wasn’t like he was standing around listening. He was _moving_ , just… a little slower than normal.  
  
His heart had thundered when Fíli had suggested that it had been none other than Bilbo himself who had left the flowers. Holding his breath he braced himself for whatever Thorin’s reply would be.

But nothing could have prepared him for laughter. Thorin obviously thought that the very idea of getting involved with him was absurd.  
  
And it wasn’t just once that he rejected the very _notion_ of Bilbo leaving the flowers. When Thorin was going to deny it for the third time Bilbo couldn’t keep his silence any longer. He was a Baggins.  
  
And as a Baggins he apologized and as a Baggins he’d then slunk off to find a place to hide until his heart had stopped aching... Somewhere next Age most likely, but it wasn’t like they really needed a burglar anyway. Nori could probably steal whatever that needed to be stolen, and do a much better job of it.  
  
“Bilbo, wait! Please, wait!”  
  
The words made Bilbo halt abruptly enough that he almost fell over. The shock stemmed from three very separate origins.  
  
Firstly, Thorin had actually used his name, his first name. Not Mister Baggins, not ‘burglar’, not Hobbit, not Halfling. And definitely not grocer, though to be fair that had only be the once. Secondly, Thorin had said _please_. Thirdly, Thorin had sounded, he’d sounded almost _anxious_. Not angry as Bilbo might have expected. Maybe that was a sign that Bilbo hadn’t wrecked their friendship completely; if Thorin was that intent on speaking to him.  
  
Slowly Bilbo turned around.  
  
-  
  
To Mordor with this whole business of pleading being undignified for a King, Thorin thought as Bilbo stopped. He was prepared to _beg_ if it meant that Bilbo promised to never look at him like that again.

He opened his mouth to explain, to apologize, but what came out was a little different.  
  
“Please allow me to court you.” Thorin said, and blinked when he realised just what he’d said. Oh well. Nothing to do about it now. “Please,” he said again, for good measure. It _did_ seem to be a very useful word to make Bilbo agree to things.

For a few moments Bilbo’s mouth just kept moving without any words actually coming out and Thorin tried his best not to be distracted by how Bilbo’s lower lip was just a little redder and more puffy than the top one. Okay, he tried not to be _too_ distracted.

“Um, why?” His (please?) Hobbit finally said and Thorin’s heart sank. Bilbo required reasons before he would allow Thorin to court him. Oh. That was fair. Of course Bilbo would require an apology and an explanation first before he would consider to forgive Thorin for his slight; no matter how unintentional it had been (not to mention Thorin wasn’t even quite sure exactly what had just happened, but it was quite clear that his actions had upset Bilbo).  
  
Then a horrible thought occurred to him. What if the flowers had not been intended as a gesture connected to courting at all. What if they meant something else entirely. Like maybe that Bilbo really had forgiven him for his earlier behaviour. Maybe it was something Hobbits did all the time, and that was why the flowers had not been in the form of a crown. But it was too late to take anything back, not that Thorin would have if he could. He had been a coward for long enough.  
  
“If you allow me to court you, I promise to hold you in the highest regards,” he began a bit haltingly. “I would honour you, respect you-“  
  
“No, I mean,” Bilbo shook his head. “Why do you even _want_ to. You're... And I'm... And the flowers.” His burglar held up a finger as if about to provide the proof to a previously unsolvable riddle.  “You _laughed_.”  
  
Thorin dared take another step forward, bringing him close enough to Bilbo that he could see all the brown, green and golden flecks that dwelt inside the blue of the Hobbit’s eyes. “That was a mistake, I first thought Fíli and Kíli had placed them in my room. I did not believe you would want to give me flowers.” Shamed, Thorin looked away. “I have done precious little to earn such a gesture from you.”  
  
“By the Valar,” Bilbo muttered. “I don’t even know what my life _is_ anymore.”  
  
Surprised Thorin looked back down at the Hobbit and felt something like hope blossom when he saw that Bilbo was caressing the braid Thorin had put in his hair that morning. It did not seem like Bilbo really was aware of what he was doing, but even so Thorin felt heartened.  
  
“So you want to court me,” Bilbo asked and crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
“I do,” Thorin said and tried not to loom too much over Bilbo. Standing as close as they were the height difference was very obvious.  
  
“And you’re not upset about the flowers?”  
  
“I- no. But I’m still not quite sure what their meaning is? I thought your people made crowns, or wreaths.”  
  
Bilbo’s cheeks turned a pale shade of pink.  
  
“Not always,” he said loftily. “And the meaning is-“ Bilbo hesitated and the flush on his cheeks deepened and before Thorin knew what he was doing he’d cupped the side of Bilbo’s face.  
  
“May I kiss you?” Thorin asked, voice hoarse. It wasn't proper, Bilbo hadn't even agreed to be courted, but then again, he had given Thorin the flowers. And he hadn't said no either, so maybe it would not be too horrible of him to kiss Bilbo. At least, if he agreed to the kiss. Thorin felt as if he _needed_ to kiss him.  
  
“I- on one condition,” Bilbo said and Thorin nodded.  
  
“Name it.”  
  
“Say my name again? I don’t think you’ve ever used my first name until today. And I… quite liked it.”  
  
“Bilbo,” Thorin murmured and stroked his thumb over the strange smoothness of the cheek beneath his hand. Then he repeated the action, because while it _was_ strange he would not want it any other way. “Bilbo,” he said again and watched as his Hobbit’s eyes darken (his! please let Bilbo be his).  
  
Later Thorin could not have told just exactly who had initiated the kiss, but that mattered little.

In the back of his mind, the far, far back where there was still room for thoughts beyond how Bilbo’s lips felt pressed against his own, he registered the voice of his youngest nephew.  
  
“I don’t dare to look, are they kissing now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, over 90k (and sure, most of those have just been about Fíli/Bofur and some Kíli/Dwalin, but still) and now we're finally here. We actually have real progress when it comes to Thorin and Bilbo!!! :D Prooooogress!!!! PROGRESS! *flails*
> 
> If you are as happy as I am, please, drop me a line, lol. Or if you want to yell at me that is also okay. Comments are love? 
> 
> I really am sorry for them taking so long to get their shit together, but thanks for sticking with me while they worked things out. Heh, I kinda feel like I've married them off to each other or something. But, ah, progress ^^ Now to just make sure they won't do anything else stupid.


	42. Fíli On The Roof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matchmaker, Matchmaker  
> Miracle of Miracles  
> Now I Have Everything  
> The Rumor/I Just Heard
> 
> (Title is of course a nod to Fiddler on the Roof) ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peeps! The response for the last chapter blew me away! I can't thank you enough for all the kind words, kudos and all the appreciation. 
> 
> I'm a bit sad that I've not been able to update again during the week, but that's life I guess. But there will always be at least one update every week, unless there are reasons ;) But I think we've only had one week without updates so far, so the odds are good. 
> 
>  
> 
> [TurtleKidtheWoolgatherer](../../../users/TurtleKidtheWoolgatherer/pseuds/TurtleKidtheWoolgatherer) was kind enough to notice that I'm messing with my own story. Fíli and Bofur of course already told Kíli about how they were going to get married, it was just Thorin that was left as he and Bilbo were a bit busy at the time. (And Bilbo was later told in another chapter)  
> So that's been changed, but no need to go back and re-read, nothing else was changed.

Of _course_ a sheep ruined it.

It might be petty, but the next time Fíli had mutton for dinner he would take great joy in it. And have seconds. And he didn’t even _like_ mutton all that much.

Everything had been going so well. There had been declarations of, well, not of hopeless, embarrassing mutual infatuations (which would have been the plain truth), but at least declarations of courting. And there had been a kiss, which actually had been rather sweet; and not as uncomfortable to behold as Fíli had imagined. (Not that Kíli seemed to agree as he hid behind his hands.) Okay, Fíli didn’t want to spend a lot of time watching his uncle and Bilbo snog either, but really, Kíli was just being childish.  
  
Though before Fíli had time to become truly uncomfortable there came the sound of a soft: “Bah?” and a sheep came wandering down the corridor.  
  
At the noise Bilbo reflexively pulled back from Thorin and almost fell backwards as he had been balancing on his toes during the kiss. He probably _would_ have fallen if it wasn’t for Thorin’s quick save in wrapping an arm around his waist, _and_ ; if not for the hand that Bilbo had tangled into Thorin’s hair…  
  
Fíli winced in sympathy when Thorin clenched his teeth and pulled Bilbo close enough so that the Hobbit would stop pulling at his hair.  
  
“What’s going on?” Kíli wondered and Fíli smacked the back of his brother’s head with the bouquet of flowers that he was still clutching.  
  
“If you would deign to look then you wouldn’t need to ask,” he hissed. “Didn’t we follow them so we would make sure that they didn’t screw everything up again?”  
  
“It seemed that things were going quite… well for them,” Kíli said sulkily and peeked out from behind his hands. “No need for me to be traumatized.”  
  
To the sheep’s credit it appeared to be quite, well, sheepish over interrupting Bilbo and Thorin and with another quiet bleat it turned on its heels and trotted off from where it’d come.  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Bilbo said and carefully untangled himself from Thorin’s hair. “I really didn’t mean to-“  
  
“No harm done,” Thorin said and caught Bilbo’s fluttering hand and pressed a kiss to the knuckles.  
  
Fíli snorted. Sure, not if you compared it to let’s say getting gnawed on by a Warg, but to have had Bilbo pretty much hanging off your hair can’t have been a particularly pleasant.  
  
Unfortunately, or perhaps not considering that Fíli really didn’t want to still be around when Thorin and Bilbo got to the stage _after_ kissing, Fíli’s snort appeared to remind Thorin that a hallway was perhaps not the most private of places.   
  
When Thorin started to turn his head around Fíli quickly backed behind the corner again, grabbing the back of Kíli’s shirt to yank him along.  
  
Thorin murmured something to Bilbo that Fíli couldn’t quite catch, and then there was the even softer sound of another kiss.   
  
Phew, it was luckily that Thorin was likely going to be even more distracted by their burglar from now on. Or, at least when it came to situations like this.   
  
It _could_ end up being a bit of a less welcome distraction the next time they had to fight their way out of a sticky situation, but at least Fíli would be prepared for it. Besides, Thorin wasn’t a Dwarfling with his first crush. He could act in a mature, adult way. Right?  
  
“Nephews!” Thorin boomed as stormed around the corner and Fíli most definitely did not yelp like a dog that had just gotten its tail trod upon.  
  
“Uncle,” Kíli grinned and leaned casually against the wall as if he usually spent his days standing around in hallways. “We were just-“  
  
“Save it,” Thorin said and crossed his arms. “I am willing to forget everything about your involvement in this, but the longer I stand here looking at you, the more I seem to remember.” He lowered his gaze to the flowers Fíli was holding. “And I believe those are mine.”  
  
“Of course,” Fíli readily agreed and held the bouquet out to Thorin. “And we will be leaving now. To do important things, I’m sure.” It was best that they left quickly before Thorin realised that he might also take this opportunity to forbid them from any further involvement in his and Bilbo’s courtship. That just wouldn’t do… Who would then save them from themselves?  
  
“Bye, Uncle, bye, Bilbo,” Kíli called over his shoulder when Fíli started to drag him away and Fíli sighed.  
  
“Not really helping, brother.”  
  
-  
  
Free from his uncle-(and Hobbit-)sitting duties Fíli could again return to Bofur-hunting.  
  
It was impossible to search all the rooms in the house, especially when Thorin had more or less ordered him out of it, but Fíli could conclude that Bofur was still not to be found in the main hall, nor in the kitchens. And none of the animals had seen him since this morning.

From the kitchens Fíli continued his search outside, and when first the spot beneath the bushes proved empty, and then Bofur wasn’t even to be found outside the hedges with the bees, Fíli was actually beginning to feel a little worried.  
  
As he wandered slowly back to the house, looking around for any sign of Bofur, Fíli tried to figure out what could have happened that would lead to Bofur being this impossible to find. Or was it just that he’d picked another room in the house? If that was it then Fíli would not be able to find him until he chose to come out, and the same would hold true for Bombur he supposed. So perhaps that was the plan that Bofur had indeed picked...

As the house came back into view again Fíli sighed. From a distance it didn’t look so very large, but that wouldn’t really help him find Bofur.   
  
Then a movement on the roof caught his eye.   
  
It appeared to be… could it be? It certainly _looked_ like the very familiar flaps of a very familiar hat, gently blowing in the breeze. Fíli could just see the very top of the hat from where it was sticking up over the roof-ridge, and he wouldn’t have seen the flaps at all if the wind didn't occasionally push them up and into his sight. But it had to be Bofur’s hat, and where the hat was, Bofur would also be found. Or at least he better be because a Bofur-less hat was otherwise a real cause for concern.  
  
Torn between not wanting to give away Bofur’s hiding place if he really was still just hiding from Bombur, and the need to get up on the roof as quickly as possible Fíli tried to do a casual jog to the back of the house where he knew he would find a trellis. He’d seen it the day before when Bilbo had dropped the egg (and potentially made Kíli unable to ever enjoy an omelette ever again).  
  
That _had_ to be the way Bofur had climbed up. Fíli couldn’t see how anyone except maybe a squirrel could to it on just the bare walls.  
  
Doing his best to project a general sense of ‘nothing to see here, just felt like running a bit’ Fíli quickly made his way to the back of the house where thankfully no one was around except for a couple of grumpy looking hens.  
  
When he started to climb the blessedly well-built trellis the hens squawked something not particularly pleasant sounding.    
  
“As if you should talk,” Fíli muttered as he pulled himself up to the next hand-hold. “You can’t fly either. Mahal only knows why you’ve even got wings.”  
  
Sooner than he really would have expected Fíli was up on the roof. Great. Now what?  
  
The roof was covered with straw, and Fíli didn’t really want to come crashing down into the house if stepped somewhere he shouldn’t have. Sure, the actually ceilings inside the house hadn’t been straw, so there was likely a second roof beneath the straw that was wood. But still, roofs were likely not intended to be overly heavy, so it was unlikely the wood would actually hold his weight.  
  
Still muttering Fíli crouched down and tried to feel for where the supports in the roof where.   
Out of all the places Bofur could have picked to hide…  
  
Finding a beam that seemed sturdy enough wasn’t that hard, but despite the thrum of urgency to get to Bofur, Fíli nonetheless did his best to avoid ending the morning with broken legs. Instead of running across the roof like a stupid Oliphant, Fíli slowly made his way across, being careful not to shift his entire weight until he felt sure that also the next patch of roof would hold him.   
  
He couldn’t see Bofur from where he was standing, and that just made him even more urgent to cross the roof, but finally he was able to look over to the ridge and there was his wayward love!   
  
Sound asleep.  
  
Back to muttering again - after a brief pause out of sheer relief of actually having found Bofur - Fíli managed to make his way over to the other Dwarf without any sudden falls and tumbles.  
  
Being forced to stop a few feet away as to not put too much weight on the same bit of beam that held Bofur Fíli crouched down again and contemplated his next step.  
  
Screaming to get Bofur to wake up was probably a bad plan that could end with Bofur falling off, or through the roof. But feeling rather grumpy Fíli enjoyed imagining it for a few moments more.  
  
Sighing he unclasped a silver bead from his hair and threw it, aiming for Bofur’s nose. Success!  
  
Wrinkling his nose in a way that Fíli most assuredly did not find adorable (he was upset with Bofur for pulling a disappearing act like this. Angry even!) Bofur snorted softly and slowly opened his eyes.  
  
“Good morning,” Fíli said sarcastically and Bofur’s green eyes widened in surprise and then crinkled together again in surprised pleasure. Well, crap. How was Fíli supposed to be angry at someone who looked at him like _that_.  
  
“Hiya,” Bofur murmured sleepily. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Sighing Fíli sat down. “Yes, I imagine you would have been less surprised if you’d actually told me where you were going.”  
  
“To be fair,” Bofur said and stretched. “You disappeared first on your quest to muck about with Thorin’s clothes.”

“You couldn’t have left a note?”  
  
“My brother _can_ read, you know,” Bofur said and smiled crookedly. “The second he was no longer distracted by food or our host he started to head my way. I had to flee for my life. Or at least for the sake of my dignity.”  
  
“I think he’s still looking for you somewhere else,” Fíli said. “I haven’t actually seen him since breakfast either. But why pick the damned roof as your hiding spot?”  
  
“Very simple reason, Bombur wouldn’t be able to get up here. The trellis wouldn’t hold him.”

Fíli nodded slowly. “Okay, I can see your point, but please, let me know where you’re going to hide next time.” He tried to make his eyes as big and sad as possible. “I missed you.”  
  
“It’s just been a couple of hours,” Bofur protested, but he did look a little guilty so Fíli would count that as a success.

“A lot can happen in just a couple of hours,” Fíli said with a mock-hurt tone of voice but he couldn’t stop himself from snickering when Bofur sighed dramatically. “Oh, speaking of that,” Fíli said and snapped his fingers. “You’ll never guess what has happened!”  
  
“What, did Thorin finally make a move on Bilbo?” Bofur grinned and Fíli deflated slightly.  
  
“Ah, yes.”  
  
Bofur blinked. “Really? I was just teasing you.”  
  
“They have finally decided to compare notes and are now, finally, courting. There was even a kiss.” Fíli grinned. “So-“  
  
There was a loud crack and then the sound of something heavy thumping down on the ground.  
  
“Bofur!” Bombur called and he sounded winded, like one would after for example tumbling to the ground when the trellis you were climbing suddenly gave way. “I know you’re up there, brother of mine.”  
  
“Crap,” Bofur muttered. “Maybe if we’re quiet he’ll go away.”  
  
“That _never_ worked with Kíli,” Fíli whispered. “Are you sure?”  
  
“No,” Bofur moaned.  
  
“So,” Bombur called. “I heard some interesting noises last night.”

Bofur sighed and Fíli wished he could get close enough to actually touch him. (Although, that's what got them into this situation in the first place…)

“Did you perhaps have a back-up plan to get down,” Fíli asked instead.

“Ah, not as such,” Bofur hedged.

 “I must say I’m not sure if I should be impressed or jealous.” Bombur’s laugh came rolling up to them. “Good job, Fíli!”

“You can just stop looking proud of yourself,” Bofur hissed and Fíli tried to look innocent.  
  
“Right, either we go around that corner because I think there was some bushes below, or we can try and land on Bombur?”  
  
“Or I can just die from embarrassment,” Bofur muttered. “That would solve everything.”  
  
“The bushes it is then,” Fíli said and rose to his feet.


	43. What Strange Creatures Brothers Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in Bofur is perhaps too nice to be a big brother, Bombur is the biggest little shit there ever was, and Fíli is back to making plans. Oh, and Kíli finally gets that Biology 101 lesson.

Wonders of all wonders, they actually made it off the roof without damaging it or themselves.   
  
While Beorn’s house might be very vast it didn’t stand much taller than normal (or what Fíli figured was normal for human houses, he’d not actually seen all that many of them) so compared to let’s say falling down, down, _down_ the inside of a Goblin infested mountain, the drop from the roof to the bushes on the ground seemed pretty comfortable indeed. And luckily enough the bushes were not junipers and cushioned their landing quite nicely.

Still, Fíli thought as he tried to work his way out of the shrub, Dwarfs were clearly not meant to be on roofs. Or on mountains. Or close to cliffs. Come to think about it, every time they’d been somewhere high up bad things had happened. Except maybe when they’d walked over that bridge in Rivendell, but then again Elves might count as bad things on general principle.   
  
Hmm, maybe it was a bit unfair to compare Bombur to Goblins, Orcs _and_ Elves.   
  
Bofur on the other hand didn’t seem to think that it was terribly unfair, what with the wild look in his eyes and the way he scrambled to get out of the bush.   
  
“Quick, before he knows that we’ve gone,” Bofur hissed and helped pull Fíli the rest of the way out of the bush.

“I know I’ve said this before,” Fíli hissed back. “But you _do_ know that you can’t run from him indefinitely? How is this worse than him teasing you about dressing up like a Elf that one time? It’s like-”   
  
Fíli stopped himself before he could finish the sentence. He _knew_ Bofur was not embarrassed to be with him, the thought was ridiculous. He didn’t even know where it’d come from. “Never mind,” the blond mumbled. “So where are we hiding now?”  
  
Bofur’s hand tightened around Fíli’s. “Never mind that, what just happened? It’s like what?”  
  
Fíli smiled and squeezed Bofur’s hand. “It’s nothing, I’m - it _really_ is nothing.”

Bofur looked at him suspiciously. “So tell me then.”  
  
“Shouldn’t we be running away?”  
  
“No, you’re right, I can’t run from him forever. You were saying?”  
  
Fíli sighed and looked away, though when a warm softness settled on his head he snapped his head back to stare at Bofur.  
  
“I’m bribing you,” Bofur explained. “I trust you with my hat, you can trust me to say what is on your mind.”  
  
“It’s not - I promise you that it really is nothing.” Fíli’s free hand came up to settle the hat more securely on his head. It would be bad form to immediately let it fall to the ground. “I just don’t understand why you are so embarrassed by this when Bombur usually teases you, teases _everyone_ , about everything and that’s never made you run away before.”  
  
“You think I’m embarrassed about _us,”_ Bofur said slowly. “Fíli, no.”  
  
“But I don’t think that, not really,” Fíli protested. “I just don’t understand.”  
  
Looking a little uncomfortable Bofur chuckled. “I guess I’m not used to it.”  
  
Fíli opened his mouth to protest, because really, after eating, teasing was probably Bombur’s favourite pastime. But before he was able to point that out Bofur continued.  
  
“What I mean is that I’m not used to him teasing about something like this.” Rubbing his neck Bofur glanced away. “He’s never had much cause to do it before.”  
  
“You’ve _always_ been quiet before?” Fíli asked and then flushed a little at how incredulous he sounded. But really, it hadn’t really been very difficult to get Bofur to make noise.   
  
“Ah, not as such.” Bofur also seemed a bit flushed. “I- It’s just never been something I’ve done all that often.”  
  
“ _Noise_?” Fíli asked, now confused.  
  
Bofur sighed. “I’ve never been in love before I met you. So that dear brother of mine have not really been able to tease me very much about things like this before as he usually never meets anyone I’ve tumbled.”  
  
“Oh.” Fíli blinked. “ _Oh_.”  
  
“Pretty much,” Bofur agreed and rubbed his thumb over Fíli’s knuckles. “It feels - I’m worlds away from being ashamed of you, but I guess I think some things really should be private. Though you’re right, I can’t really run from it forever, so maybe I should just let him have a go and then I’ll get used to it.”  
  
“Or he shouldn’t have to say anything in the first place,” Fíli groused, now feeling very protective of Bofur. Other feelings that had decided to come out to play with the revelation that he was Bofur’s first love was of course a great deal of smugness mingled with something close to disbelief because why did Bofur pick _him_ out of all the Dwarfs in Middle-earth to fall in love with?  
  
“Good luck with that,” Bofur snorted. “He doesn’t mean anything by it, but whereas I _sometimes_ have trouble keeping my mouth shut – really, I thought Bilbo was never going to forgive me for making him faint – Bombur is a whole different kettle of fish. I don’t mind, it’s even nice usually. As you know he can be very funny and he laughs as much at himself as he does at others.” Bofur’s eyes were so very earnest and without the hat shadowing them they seemed even greener. They turned greener still when Fíli leaned in to kiss him. Because how could he not.  
  
“The way I see it,” Fíli said when he pulled back. “We have two options. And no, none of them involve running. Or roofs.”  
  
“Go on,” Bofur smiled.  
  
“Either we can go and ask Bilbo, or Gandalf, if they know some herb or something that will make food taste horrible and then we can use that as blackmail. Or - and this is the option I’m voting for, we can show him that you don’t mind being teased. That’s how younger brothers work. When they think you’re not bothered they can’t be bothered either.”  
  
“And how would I go about doing such a thing,” Bofur asked and raised an eyebrow. “The latter I mean. Bombur would never forgive me for the first.”  
  
“What is the opposite of hiding by yourself on the roof?” Fíli asked and waggled his eyebrows. He hoped it was visible beneath the hat. “After all, if someone is embarrassed by something, would they really repeat it in public?”  
  
“You are _not_ saying what I think you are saying,” Bofur said sternly.   
  
“I was thinking we could stick to snogging out in front of the house,” Fíli grinned. “But if you insist on something else…”  
  
“No,” Bofur said and shook his head. “Definitely not something else.”  
  
“So we’ll go with my plan?”  
  
“You and your plans.” Bofur smiled fondly at Fíli.  
  
“My plans always work,” Fíli said and nodded for emphasis. “I’m taking that as a yes by the way.”  
  
“Fine,” Bofur said and wrapped his arms around Fíli. “If I absolutely have to, I guess I could stand it.”

“Where is Bombur anyway?” Fíli asked. “Shouldn’t he have realised that we’re not actually on the roof anymore. And sorry about that, he must have seen me go up there.”  
  
Bofur looked worried. “I hope he didn’t hurt himself falling.”  
  
“He seemed fine, but do you want to go check on him?”  
  
That Bofur did, so the snogging plan was temporarily put on ice to instead go and check that the cause of the snogging plan hadn’t actually managed to injure himself by wrecking Beorn’s trellis.  
  
When rounding the corner of the house they were thankfully met by the sight of a healthy, if unusually quiet Bombur. The quiet part probably had something to do with the pair of hens that had parked themselves on his chest. The two birds _did_ seem to make enough noise for several Bomburs. But the Dwarf did not appear to mind, he nodded and made encouraging noises.  
  
“Oh, really?” he said just as Bofur and Fíli walked up.  
  
“Since when do you speak Chicken,” Bofur said and looked down on his brother.  
  
“I don’t,” Bombur grinned. “But these lovely ladies are so pleasant company that it doesn’t matter.” The hens ducked their head shyly and cooed.  
  
“He’s not going to eat them, is he?” Fíli whispered to Bofur.  
  
“No!” Bofur protested.  
  
“Well, have fun then. Good to see you didn’t break your neck,” Fíli told Bombur before turning to Bofur. “Want to go and practice?”  
  
“Practice?”  
  
Fíli waggled his eyebrows again before remembering that the hat might be covering them. Instead he winked at Bofur before taking his hand to drag him away.  
  
“Now that I know I’m your first I better make sure you know what you’re doing,” Fíli teased.  
  
“Not my first at that,” Bofur grumbled, but he allowed himself to be lead away willingly enough.  
  
“You’re the first who gets to wear his hat too!” Bombur called after them. “And I’ve never heard him moan quite that loud before last night either, so congrats, you’re the first at that as well.”  
  
One of the hends clucked disapprovingly and pecked at Bombur’s beard.   
  
“Not the beard, my lady,” Bombur protested.  
  
“Maybe we can get one of the hens to come along as a nanny,” Bofur mused.  
  
When they got back to the front of the house it was to the sight of Kíli and Dwalin glaring at each other.  
  
“It’s _not_ stupid.” Kíli brightened when he saw Fíli. “Brother, come here and help me.”  
  
“What are you two talking about,” Fíli asked, feeling a bit wary. Dwalin and Kíli had always had a way to get into stupid arguments, and that was before they got involved.  
  
“Your brother has gotten it into his head that you two will be getting cousins in the near future,” Dwalin drawled and crossed his arms. “And if that is not the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard…”  
  
Oh, _oh_ , that was right. Kíli hadn’t actually been up yet that morning, when Bilbo had pretty much made it clear that male Hobbits could not get with child.   
  
“It’s not ridiculous,” Kíli protested.

“Have you ever heard if two males having little ones together?” Dwalin asked.

“No, but-“

“Have you ever heard of a Hobbit and a Dwarf having kids together?”

“No, but maybe-“

“Then how in Mahal’s name did you figure this idea of yours would work?” Dwalin questioned and raised an eyebrow.  
  
Kíli looked beseechingly at Fíli who discretely elbowed Bofur to stop him from snickering so loud.  
  
“Kíli, I don’t think Bilbo can have children with Thorin,” Fíli said and put his hand on his brother’s arm. “This morning, we were taking a related subject, and Bilbo said as much.”

Kíli’s face crumpled and Fíli had to fight down the brotherly urge to promise to try and make everything better.  
  
“Are you sure? Really sure?”  
  
“Pretty much,” Fíli said and shrugged one shoulder. Ah, and there came the famous puppy eyed look Fíli wished he could do even half as well. Luckily, this time it was turned on Dwalin who seemed to be pretty entranced by it. That’s what you got when you went away for months and months, all immunity to Kíli’s pleading looks disappeared.

Wrapping an arm around Kíli’s waist Dwalin pulled him to his side with a sigh.  
  
“Don’t agree to kidnap any children,” Fíli stage-whispered to Dwalin. “If Thorin and Bilbo want any they should do it themselves.”  
  
“Ha, ha,” Kíli murmured. “I just know that their kid would have been too cute for words. Dark curly hair, big blue eyes, constantly getting in trouble.”  
  
“Except for the eyes it sounds pretty familiar,” Dwalin teased, smiling when the corners of Kíli’s mouth turned up a bit.  
  
“We would have been the best cousins,” Kíli lamented. Then he frowned. “Though perhaps it’s good that Bilbo won’t be getting pregnant, mood swings and all that.”  
  
Fíli snorted, because in the last few minutes Kíli had gone from being annoyed, to being happy, to being depressed, and was now toeing the line between happy and contemplative. The blond exchanged a fondly exasperated look with Dwalin who sighed.  
  
“So, it’s agreed then, no more talk about pregnant burglars,” he prompted. “Before your uncle hears you and-“ Now it was Dwalin’s turn to frown. “Well I don’t know what he’ll do exactly, but don’t do it anyway.”  
  
“Fine,” Kíli sulked. “No more talk about Bilbo having Thorin’s baby.”  
  
“What!?”  
  
Fíli swivelled around and saw a shocked looking Bilbo (thankfully not accompanied by Thorin).  
  
“Hi, Bilbo, bye Bilbo,” Fíli said and grabbed Bofur’s hand. The roof was starting to look pretty good again.


	44. Interlude - Two Wrongs Really Don't Make A Right (or a Dwobbit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in Dwalin has a bit of a potty mouth and Kíli is frustrated with the world.  
> Gandalf is amused. And Bilbo is scandalized. (And Dori too, but for another reason.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 k words! *faints*

Kíli glared after Fíli and Bofur as the pair made their getaway. He wasn’t upset exactly; when faced with an irate Hobbit it was every Dwarf for themselves, fair enough. But he wished he’d been a little quicker to disappear himself because now it was probably too late. Make that definitely too late.  
  
Bilbo stood right in front of him with a frown and crossed arms, and by Kíli’s side Dwalin stood radiating stoic amusement. (Meaning that while his mouth wasn’t smiling, his eyes most definitely were.)  
  
“What did you mean about me having Thorin’s _baby_?”  
  
“Well,” Kíli hedged. “It’s just, if _anyone_ will have his baby, it’s going to be you? Because, who else?”  
  
From the way Dwalin was now shaking with supressed laughter Kíli figured that that perhaps had not been the best choice of words. Bilbo’s eyes did that weird thing where they appeared to grow to twice their size and Kíli scrambled to find the words to make them stop before they burst.  
  
“I mean, Fíli told me that you can’t, but it’s not like Thorin’s going to- not with someone _else_ , so really, it’s only logical.”  
  
Dwalin made a sound that would have been a giggle if it’d come from anyone else. Bilbo sputtered and waved his hands.  
“ _Logical_?”  
  
“Indeed!” Kíli beamed and clasped Bilbo’s shoulders. “Glad you agree. Now I really must be going, I need to- do. Important things.” As he pulled Bilbo into a hug, Kíli made the same revelation that Fíli had made during the walk to Beorn’s. The Hobbit was _tiny_! Wow.  
  
Kíli had to fight against a sudden urge to pick Bilbo up and tuck him into his pocket. Okay, he might not really be small enough to fit into his pocket, but the urge was still there!  
  
“I’m really glad you and Thorin are courting,” Kíli said sincerely when he let Bilbo go. “Just please limit yourselves to kissing if I'm around to see it or you’ll have to bear the guilt of scarring me for life. Cousins or no cousins.”  
  
Bilbo’s mouth opened and closed but no words actually came out. Dwalin snorted and grabbed Kíli’s arm.  
  
“I think we’ll be going now, before Thorin realises you’ve broken his burglar.”  
  
“I’ve not _broken_ him,” Kíli protested and looked over his shoulder as Dwalin started steering him away. “Bilbo, you’re not broken are you?”  
  
The Hobbit did not answer, which perhaps was a _bit_ worrying. But Thorin was sure to come along and sort him out, so Kíli wasn’t too worried.  
  
-  
  
Something that had worried Dwalin a bit at first was the fact that Kíli was rather young, especially in comparison to Dwalin himself.  
  
It wasn’t that he doubted the sincerity of Kíli’s feelings, he trusted Kíli to know his own mind. The lad had always been loyal to a fault and stubborn as a whole herd of mules. If he said that he was in love with him then he was, strange as that might sound. (As a warrior you quickly learnt not to question strokes of good luck though, it wouldn’t do to upset whatever fortune that had deigned to grace you with its attention, so Dwalin was _not_ going to question it.)  
  
Rather it was something closer to a worry that Kíli’s youth would make Dwalin feel _old_.  
  
Happily, that turned out to be a completely useless thing to worry about.  
  
Kíli was young yes but he made Dwalin feel younger too, like he was also in his 70ies.  
  
Mirth making the corners of his mouth twitch, Dwalin pulled Kíli away from the Hobbit who appeared to have been frozen solid. He was still breathing though, so he’d be all right.  
  
 As they rounded the corner of the house Dwalin looked around, and seeing that no one was in sight he pushed Kíli up against the timbered wall and claimed his mouth in a kiss.  
  
Kíli hummed appreciative and wound his arms around Dwalin’s neck.

“You are wearing way too much in the way of armour,” Kíli murmured. “Not to mention clothes.”  
  
Unlike most of the company Dwalin had redressed himself in full armour as soon as Bilbo had returned his clothes and Kíli was now pawing discontentedly at his belt.  
  
“The rabbits are much too busy showing off their kits to Balin to plot against our lives,” Kíli teased and Dwalin nipped at his lips.  
  
“I don’t know,” Dwalin rumbled. “Last I saw of my brother it seemed that the creatures had finally run out of wee things to show him.”  
  
“Ah, so we should begin to fear for our lives then? Or will the attack come from the murderous beings who call themselves sheep? I’ve seen how Fíli looks at them, he seems to think that they are planning an uprising.”  
  
“We might be able to use Ori as a spy,” Dwalin suggested and stroked his hands up inside Kíli’s shirt. Kíli had left all his leathers inside, and was dressed only in his tunic and breeches. “He is wearing enough knitted woolly things to be confused with one of their own.”

Kíli’s grin turned into a grimace when his hands just scrambled uselessly over Dwalin’s straps and ties without being able to get rid of any of them.  
  
“This isn’t particularly fair,” he moaned when Dwalin’s hands found and twisted a nipple. “I want to touch you.”

“Who said life was fair,” Dwalin smirked and bent to kiss Kíli again.  
  
“Umhrm.”  
Someone cleared their throat behind them.  
  
Dwalin reflexively put himself even more firmly in front of Kíli and the other person, but he relaxed again when he turned his head and saw that it was only Dori.  
  
“Would you mind taking this inside?” Dori asked mildly but with steel in his voice. It was clear that it wasn’t exactly a mere suggestion. “Certain more impressionable members of the company might not want to stumble across you pawing at each other.”  
  
Translation, do not fuck in public where my little brother might see you.  
  
“If it’s not rabbits it’s Dori…” Kíli muttered, but only pouted a little when Dwalin slid his hands back out from his shirt.  
  
“Really,” Dori huffed. “There is a time and place for everything, but it’s not here.”  
  
Dwalin grinned wolfishly when he turned around.  
  
“Better make sure your brother is not in his room then, because I believe it’s next close to mine and that’s the place where we’ll be going.”

However they were interrupted before they could even get inside.  
  
-  
  
“A word, Kíli, if you please,” Gandalf called to them as they turned around the corner of the house.  
  
Kíli sighed and grabbed Dwalin’s beard to pull him down into a kiss. “Want to wait for me inside?”  
  
Dwali shook his head. “I’ll come with you.”  
  
“Sooner rather than later, one can only hope,” Kíli said and grinned slyly, laughing when Dwalin made to swat him at the back of the head.  
  
“Master Wizard,” Kíli beamed when they walked up to Gandalf who was sitting out on the veranda. Gandalf smiled and took the pipe from his mouth to blow a perfectly circular smoke ring

“My dear boy,” the Wizard said. “Whatever have you been saying to our burglar?”  
  
Kíli shuffled his feet a little. “Well, it would have helped if you had told us right away that male Hobbits could not get with child. Saved us a lot of confusion.” Not to mention that Kíli still couldn’t look at eggs without picturing them with curly hair and blue eyes.  
  
“I would think that it would have been obvious,” Gandalf said mildly and Kíli elbowed Dwalin when the other Dwarf hummed in agreement. “I’m afraid Bilbo is a little upset with you at the moment.”  
  
Kíli felt himself droop a little. He hadn’t meant to upset Bilbo. But wait. _Why_ was _he_ upset?  
  
Kíli was upset because he would not be getting any cousins, but that was something that Bilbo already would have known. Surely.  
  
“I do think that he is mostly upset that you assumed that _he_ would be the one to get with child,” Gandalf replied to Kíli’s question.

“But Thorin can't- Dwarfs can't,” Kíli said and waved his hands about in front of his stomach.

“Well, no,” Gandalf agreed. “But-”

“Is this another weird Hobbit thing?” Kíli said as a thought occurred to him. “Don’t they-“ he paused. How to say put it in a little more delicate way….  
  
“Get fucked,” Dwalin filled in, and Kíli turned to glare at him. You didn’t go around saying ‘fuck’ to a Wizard. It just wasn’t done. Dwalin looked completely remorseless of course so Kíli just accidentally stepped on his foot. Sadly he rather thought Dwalin didn’t even notice it since his boots appeared to be reinforced with steel.  
  
“Well, yes,” Kíli turned back to Gandalf. “Don't they… do that? Is it ‘improper’?” If that was the case it was their loss.

Gandalf looked entirely too amused for comfort.  
  
“They do indeed to _that_ ,” he said as merriment practically sparkled out of his eyes. “However it’s considered terribly impolite to talk about, or presume, which one out of a pair will be…” Gandalf appeared to search for the right word.  
  
“Who will get fucked,” Dwalin said drily and crossed his arms.  
  
“Yes,” Gandalf nodded. “Rather. Thank you.”

“But Thorin can’t get with child,” Kíli stated. “No matter how they would have done it I already knew that _that_ was not going to happen.” He frowned. He really needed to stop having this conversation right about now. “No matter,” he added. “So I should apologize to Bilbo?”  
  
“No, no” Gandalf shook his head. “I fear that would only make it worse.”  
  
Dwalin snorted and Kíli accidentally stepped on Dwalin’s foot again, a little harder this time. At least it made himself feel better.  
  
Hobbits and Wizards and bother it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And what Thorin is off doing I think we'll get to in the next chapter which should be up tonight or tomorrow. ;)


	45. Interlude - Plans, Worries and Realisations - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin makes plans, Bilbo makes realisations - and at least some of them correct (and learns that he really needs to start announcing his arrivals so he won't overhear things anymore)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this turned out to be longer and not at all like I thought it would be. I hope to have Part 2 out tomorrow.

As had become all too usual when it came to a certain Bilbo Baggins, Thorin’s feelings were torn between the highest heights of joy and the lowest depths of panic and anxiety.  
  
Bilbo had agreed to be courted by him which was more than Thorin really could ask for in and of itself. But add to that that Bilbo had been the one to approach Thorin, the first to take the step to initiate the courtship… (Even if Thorin hadn’t understood it at the time.)That was… that was _incredible_.  
  
It was proof that Bilbo had feelings for him. Why else would he offer flowers and be distraught when it appeared that Thorin rejected him. Why else would he agree to the courting, and why else would he agree to a _kiss_. (Which might technically have ended up as a lot more than just _one_ kiss, but it was not Thorin’s fault that Bilbo turned out to be addictive.)  
  
But despite this, Thorin was still not at peace. Why? Because since Bilbo had agreed to the courting this meant that Thorin had to _court_ him. How in Mahal’s name was he going to do that? What gifts could he give his Hobbit that would prove the depths of his affections, what words could he use to prove how much Bilbo meant to him? And if he didn’t manage to find the right ones, the perfect ones, would Bilbo realise that he could find someone much better suited to himself and come to his senses..?  
  
Thorin sighed. He had the suspicion that even _if_ he had been in possession of gold and gems, rich fabrics and beautiful jewellery; all gifts suited to the intended of a king, then Bilbo still would not have been particularly impressed by them. He already knew Hobbits considered metal and stone to be ‘dead’, but surely one small gold chain or two would have been acceptable? Thorin’s eyes glazed over slightly as his mind stumbled over the image of Bilbo completely bare except for the golden links around his neck, hanging down to rest on a chest that Thorin had committed to memory (along with the rest of Bilbo) when the whole Company had bathed in the hot springs. Would the blush that had a tendency to rise to Bilbo’s cheeks also be found on his chest?  
  
Shaking his head to clear the images Thorin tried to concentrate on actually solving the problem he was faced with. After getting rid of his nephews Thorin had gone back to Bilbo to make sure his Hobbit knew how much he appreciated to be given a chance to prove himself, and that was when Thorin realised he had no real clue on how to go about such a thing. He was sure his attempt to find the right words had been very awkward.  
  
Since he hadn’t thought that a courtship was actually a possibility he had no plans, and unfortunately thinking was not the easiest thing when faced with Bilbo’s flushed cheeks and smiling eyes. He had excused himself, hopefully in a courteous manner (Thorin had been a bit preoccupied at the time with telling himself that _no_ , he could not spend the rest of the day kissing Bilbo, he had to figure out what his long-term plan of action would be) and retired to his room to think.

He could do this. He had managed to get his people settled in Ered Luin, managed to bring them from poverty to a prosperous people once more, and he was now on a quest to reclaim their rightful home from a dragon. He could figure out what would make Bilbo happy.  
  
Thorin’s eyes widened when his mind stumbled upon the first of the things he knew would make Bilbo happy. Handkerchiefs. That was… an odd courting gift to be sure, but if it would make Bilbo happy Thorin would provide handkeechiefs. Somehow. Surely there had to be some spare cloth around here somewhere.  
  
The Dwarf eyed the bed sheets thoughtfully. That _was_ an option, but perhaps he should ask first.  
  
Sighing again Thorin leant back against the headboard of the bed and went to run his hand through his hair. He stopped abruptly when his fingers touched something smooth and soft.  
  
It was the flower Bilbo had put in his hair when Thorin had returned holding the bouquet. Thorin looked to the rest of the flowers he had been given, now looking less droopy since he’d put them back in the water he’d found them in.  
  
Of course. Flowers. It was the obvious solution. Thorin did a very undignified scramble off his bed. He needed to find Ori and ask him if Bilbo had happened to mention before if there were any particular flowers that was suitable for courting. And then he needed to go pick all of them he could find.  
  
Thorin might have preferred to be able to present Bilbo with an intricate bracelet of silver and moonstones, but if his Hobbit wanted flowers then flowers he would get.

-

Bilbo’s mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, most of them were directly centred on a certain dark haired Dwarven king, and there was one in particular that kept replaying itself.  
  
Thorin _kissed_ me, Bilbo thought for the umpteenth time since Thorin had offered his excuses and gone to do… something. Bilbo was fairly sure that Thorin had even told him what but it seemed that that thought in particular didn’t manage to fit in his head for the moment amongst all the: Thorin kissed _me_. _Thorin_ kissed _me_. _Thorin kissed me_.  
  
Any moment now he would stop acting like tween with his first crush. Any moment.   
Lying on his bed Bilbo grinned goofily up at the ceiling. They were _courting_. Thorin had asked to court him, then kissed him, had not seemed like he wanted to _stop_ kissing him  (even after Thorin had told him that he had to go he had kept stealing kisses) and he _had_ wanted Bilbo’s flowers.  
  
Bilbo’s heart had skipped half a beat when Thorin had come back from talking to (getting rid of) Fíli and Kíli, holding the daisies and carnations Bilbo had left for him. Thorin’s big hand had been wrapped so carefully around the daisies and carnations; like they were immensely precious and not just greenery that had just begun to wilt a little. The sight had made Bilbo feel brave and when Thorin had come close enough Bilbo had stretched out a hand to snatch one of the daisies.  
  
Thorin had frowned at him when he’d broken off the stem, but it had turned into a sort of pleased surprise when Bilbo had reached up to place the flower in Thorin’s hair. When he had made to pull back Thorin had captured his hand and pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s knuckles before wrapping his hand around it. Then he had smiled and the sight had been so unbelievingly gorgeous that Bilbo might have blanked out for a few moments.

“- very thankful that you would give me a chance to prove myself worthy of your affections,” Thorin had been saying when Bilbo’s mind decided to pay attention again. Thorin had sounded so very earnest and Bilbo had almost wanted to protest, because surely it should be the other way around?  
  
If there was anyone who needed to prove themselves worthy it was Bilbo, the thing with Azog had been a good start, but it was just a start. Before that he’d done little to prove his worth. He had complained about stupid things like not having any handkerchiefs, and being dirty and having to sleep on the ground. He’d almost managed to get them all eaten by trolls, had almost gotten Thorin killed when the Dwarf had rescued him from falling off the side of the mountain. Bilbo frowned. He’d practically abandoned them in the Goblin mountain. Fine, he hadn’t really meant to do it, but it was just luck that had led him to be reunited with them.

It was no wonder that Thorin had believed him to be a burden. But it was a miracle that he apparently did _not_ hold that opinion any longer. Yes, a miracle was just what it was, it was practically magi-

Wrenching himself into a sitting position Bilbo scrambled to get the ring out of his pocket. When the seemingly innocent golden circlet was revealed to his gaze Bilbo stared at it with deep suspicion.

Ever since he had found the ring, Thorin had been a lot nicer to him. Sure, some of it could just have been because Bilbo had managed to stop Azog from having him killed, but what if it wasn’t?  
  
Even before that, while they were still on the mountain slopes there had been something strange going on. Thorin had protested when Dwalin had questioned how Bilbo had managed to get away from the Goblins, and he’d been so worried about the Goblin bite Bilbo had received...

Could it be possible that the ring’s magic wasn't only able to make the wearer invisible. Could it also take Bilbo’s feelings and-  
  
The Hobbit frowned unhappily. What if the ring made Thorin... what if it wasn’t _real_. The bite really had been nothing to worry about, it hadn’t even been bleeding any more, but Thorin had stood so close and touched Bilbo so carefully.  
  
Another thought occurred to Bilbo. He hadn’t actually told Gandalf, or anyone else, about the ring yet. He’d told Fíli and Bofur how he’d gotten separated from them in the caves, but nothing else. Fíli had asked again later, and Bilbo had meant to tell them about it, he’d meant to tell them about it several times, but there always seemed to be something getting in the way and making him forget. Last night… Bilbo flushed slightly. Last night he’d meant to tell them about it during supper, but then Thorin had been half-naked and all thought about the ring had completely slipped his mind.  
  
What if it was all connected. What if the ring didn’t _want_ him to tell anyone about it?  
  
Bilbo shook his head. Okay, maybe that was a little _too_ paranoid. But there still seemed to be a connection between Bilbo finding the ring and Thorin’s feelings towards him.  
  
Thorin had been livid with him when they’d taken refuge in the cave after the Stone Giants’ battle, and sure, he’d been in the middle of an apology when the floor had given way below their feet, but there was quite a difference between apologizing and even just the amount of attention Thorin had paid the bite on Bilbo’s neck.  
  
Bilbo slowly put the ring back in his pocket again. He needed to find Gandalf and tell him all about the ring. If anyone would know what magic it held, it would be Gandalf.  
  
-  
  
An hour later Thorin had a plan. A plan and a _list,_ because he’d managed to convince Ori to part with a scrap of paper.  (Convince, glare into submission… clearly the end justified the means in this particular situation.)  
  
The list was of all the things Thorin could present to Bilbo as courtship gifts. It was a pretty short list still, but Thorin was fairly pleased with it nonetheless.  
  
At the top he’d written ‘FLOWERS’ in capital letters. (And underlined it two times.) Ori hadn’t known if there was any flowers _particularly_ suited to courting, but he’d remember the meanings of enough that Thorin felt confident that he’d be able to pick a suitable large bunch of them to give to Bilbo. Or, rather, he should make them into crowns, shouldn’t he?  
  
Thorin fished the list and the piece of charcoal he’d been using to write (no amount of glaring had been enough to convince Ori to part with one of his pens and his ink) up from his pocket. He regarded it thoughtfully for a second before adding ‘make crowns’ after ‘FLOWERS’.  
  
Below ‘FLOWERS’ Thorin had written ‘Handkerchiefs’, ‘New Buttons’ and ‘Food’. Food was also underlined, but only once, and that was actually what Thorin’s second step would be (Flowers being the first.) This was because they were only going to stay at Beorn’s for two more nights, and from what the Man had told them that morning, food would not exactly be abundant once they’d entered Mirkwood. Therefore, if Thorin wanted to feed Bilbo he’d better to it quickly.  
  
He was just about to put the list away once more when he thought of two more things to include on it. Smiling slightly Thorin wrote ‘Lessons in Sword Fighting’ and ‘Riding Lessons’. The former because of obvious reasons and the latter because Bilbo had been riding as a sack of hay (but a very adorable sack of hay) before they’d lost their ponies. There was maybe a two-day ride to Mirkwood, so there would be plenty of time to get Bilbo to sit properly in the saddle.  
  
Before putting the list away Thorin added one more thing. ‘Talk about books’.  
  
Maybe these were not be most normal of courting gifts either, but by this point Thorin did not give one damn to what could be considered normal or not. He just hoped Bilbo would like them. (Thorin would certainly enjoy the swordplay lessons… Now that he didn’t have to stop himself from touching Bilbo too much.)  
  
-  
  
Unfortunately, Gandalf was not that easy to find. Everyone was in agreement that he was around, but no one could actually tell Bilbo where this ‘around’ was supposed to be.  
  
“I’m sure Gandalf is just-“  
  
“Around.” Bilbo filled the end of Dori’s sentence. “Indeed.”  
  
Feeling dejected and a fair bit anxious Bilbo sat down on the ground next to Dori, who he had found sitting outside together with Balin, Bifur and Glóin. Apparently the rabbits had forgiven Glóin for his earlier use of one of them as a handkerchief (see, it _was_ important to have proper handkerchiefs around) because the critters were crowded around both him and Balin. Bifur also had a couple of braver ones sitting on his knees and he was telling them something in Khuzdul that Bilbo hoped wasn’t a recipe for rabbit stew.  
  
Dori was rabbit-less as he glared at any rabbit that seemed to even entertain the idea of pawing at him.  
  
“Can I ask you something else,” Bilbo said after observing the rabbits for a while. “Have you - do you think Thorin have been acting strange lately?”  
  
Glóin let out a blustering laugh, making the rabbit that had been sleeping on his belly almost bounce off it. “What do you mean by _lately_?”  
  
“Since just about after the escape from the Goblins,” Bilbo said hesitantly. He really didn’t want to know, but he _had_ to know at the same time. “You’ve not found anything strange in his behaviour?”  
  
“Is there not something you want to tell us first?” Balin had been watching Bilbo with a calculating look in his eyes ever since Bilbo had joined him. “Something concerning Thorin, and... yourself?”  
  
Bifur exclaimed something in Khuzdul and leaned forward to poke at Bilbo’s jaw. Dori’s eyes widened and he smiled slightly. Glóin’s reaction was a bit more vivacious.  
  
“Really? You mean we can finally stop tiptoeing around this as Elves around a damned tree?” He laughed again and this time the rabbit did fall off. “Congratulations, laddie. About time.”  
  
Bifur spoke again and Dori sighed and nodded.  
  
“Yes, Nori will be quite impossible now that he and Ori won. But that's just your own fault for going along with him in the first place.”

Bilbo felt rather confused, but Balin just watched him calmly.  
  
“If I’m not mistaken,” he said. “You have recently been kissing someone with a beard. And while that doesn’t exactly narrow it down…”  
  
Bilbo felt himself flush and his hand came up to touch his face. His jaw and cheeks had been just a bit itchy, but since his lips had also been tingling for a good long while after the last kiss he’d not really thought it that strange. Thorin’s beard had been a bit unusual, but it had still been perfectly nice. More than nice really. A little rough maybe, but mostly just interesting. Bilbo wondered what the beard would feel like against certain other places of his body and his flushed deepened.  
  
“I-“ his voice cracked slightly and he had to clear his throat. “I do not think that’s any of your business.”  
  
Glóin and Bifur looked at each other and collapsed in laughter. Dori rolled his eyes and turned to Bilbo. “Quite right, Mister Baggins,” he agreed. “Not all of us are so crude to-“ he stopped himself. “Well, enough said about that really.”  
  
“We mean no offence,” Balin agreed. “But if something good has happened we are of course happy for you. For you both. And if you’ve just come down with an unfortunate rash, my apologies.”  
  
Still feeling a bit like an overly ripe tomato Bilbo inclined his head. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He was a private Hobbit, and while everyone would of course know sooner rather than later (it simply could not be avoided) he would  prefer it if they respected that it was indeed a _private_ matter.  
  
“Concerning your question,” Balin continued as if nothing had happened. “Thorin _has_ been acting a little strange lately.”  
  
Bilbo’s heart dropped somewhere to the vicinity of his stomach.  
  
“Yes, I think it started back when we were leaving your Shire,” the old Dwarf went on as he observed Bilbo with twinkling, knowing eyes. “It was like nothing I’ve ever seen before, and it’s only gotten worse.” Balin snorted. “But I trust we’ve seen the worst of it, isn’t that right, lad?”

“He- really? Since the _Shire_?” That couldn’t be true, could it? That would mean that all this time... “Why didn’t he say something?”  
  
“Why didn’t you?”  
  
Bilbo didn’t have a good answer for that. Oh, he had several answers, just none of them good.  
  
 _Because I was scared. Because I thought my feelings could never be returned. Because of a thousand reasons._  
  
“If you’ll excuse me,” Bilbo murmured. He needed to find Thorin. Or Gandalf. Or both. But Thorin first. If Thorin’s feelings for him had begun already at the very _start_ of their journey, just like Bilbo’s feelings for Thorin had, then it couldn’t be the ring. Then it was _real_. But if that was true they had wasted so much time...  
  
Bilbo suddenly felt a bit cross with Thorin. He was the one who was supposed to be brave, why hadn’t he _said_ something? Why hadn’t _anyone_ said something? It might be a bit unfair; Bilbo was rational enough to know this, and he wouldn’t yell at Thorin if it turned out to be true. At least not much.  Maybe he could yell at the boys instead.  
  
He was positive that Fíli and Kíli had known about his feelings for Thorin, and if Thorin had felt anything for him right from the start those two would be the ones to know about it. They could have said something!  
  
As Bilbo came closer to the house he heard Kíli’s voice, and a low rumbling one that had to be Dwalin. Oh, and that was Fíli, standing with his back towards Bilbo. Perfect.  
  
“No more talk about Bilbo having Thorin’s baby.”  
  
Bilbo’s mind stopped.  
  
“What!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting pretty late here, so I hope I've not screwed up more than usual.
> 
> Oh, and I do feel kinda bad for Fíli and Kíli if Bilbo ends up telling them off for not helping. lol, we'll see what happens.
> 
> Just to be clear, Bilbo is just paranoid (but not paranoid enough), this *isn't* an AU where the one Ring is a matchmaker. Sure, everyone else is, but not the damned Ring.


	46. Interlude - Plans, Worries and Realisations - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein we continue (almost) where we left off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I said I'd update yesterday I obviously meant today... It just kept wanting to go on and on and on, soooooo. WEEKDAY UPDATE (yay!) AND LOOOONG CHAPTER (which I'm not totally happy about but here it is anyway -yay?)
> 
> Let me know if it's stupid...

Right.  
  
Bilbo thumped his head against the trunk of the tree he was sitting up against. It had been what, two-three hours since he and Thorin began their courtship, and so far Bilbo suspected that Thorin was under the influence of a magic ring, he wanted to smother Thorin’s nephews (especially Kíli), and Gandalf was nowhere to be found. Everything was just going _splendidly_.  
  
Bilbo hit his head against the tree again. (It didn’t help the second time around either.)

Fine, the missing Wizard was perhaps not really directly related to the courtship.  
 _If_ Balin was right at least; because _if_ Thorin had begun to have feelings for him back in the Shire, that _couldn’t_ be connected to Bilbo finding the ring. Then again, if that _was_ true, why hadn’t anyone said anything?  
  
While it was possible no one had really noticed Bilbo’s feelings at first - he had after all been trying to hide them - he had a feeling that he had perhaps not done a very good job about it. He was fairly sure that at least Fíli and Kíli had known even before his sleeping mind had decided that clinging to Thorin like a limpet was a plan with great merit. But none of the boys had said anything, just as Balin hadn’t said anything about Thorin’s supposed feelings. No one had said anything at all, until now.  
  
But _now_ Kíli was apparently not above sticking his big nose into things that he really had no business being involved with at _all_. And the things that came out of that boy’s mouth just kept getting stranger and stranger… (Bilbo was trying really hard to repress certain bits. Cousins. _Logical_. Oh sweet Eru have mercy.) And _now_ it seemed perfectly all right for Kíli and everyone else to go around discussing his private affairs in public.  
  
Bilbo flushed a little. It was downright rude to talk about such things. Even more so considering that all he and Thorin had done so far was kiss, but _regardless_ , you didn’t go around talking about other people’s private affairs! Confounded Dwarfs.  
  
Taking a deep breath Bilbo then exhaled slowly. This wasn’t getting him anywhere. He needed to focus on the magic ring that was possibly in the process of ruining his life; because if it was indeed affecting Thorin there was no way the Bilbo would take advantage of him like that so he would have to put a stop to the courtship. And once Thorin had turned back into his normal safe he likely would want to avoid him as much as possible, there was just a question of exactly how mad he would be.  
  
Bilbo closed his eyes and sighed. Was it possible that the ring not only influenced Thorin, but influenced everyone else as well somehow, and that’s why Balin thought that Thorin’s feelings had begun earlier than just a few days ago? Was _that_ how the ring worked? Maybe it even had influenced himself and that was why it'd taken him a good long while to notice anything strange... How was a Hobbit supposed to know how magic worked…and why was Gandalf always somewhere else when you needed him for things that was not a matter of life and death.  
  
When Bilbo went to knock his head against the tree for a third time someone inserted a palm between the trunk and his head.

“I know Hobbits are sturdier than you look,” Bofur said and crouched down next to Bilbo. “But I don’t think that is a good idea.”

“Fair warning,” Bilbo said. “I’m in the mood to yell at someone, and you are starting to look awfully convenient.”  
  
“That’s all right,” Bofur said and grinned. “Not the first time someone would yell at me. I expect I’ll live. Before you start though, may I offer my congratulations. Fíli tells me you and our esteemed leader have begun courting.”  
  
“I used to believe Dwarfs didn’t gossip,” Bilbo said with a sigh. “I do not know what I was thinking.”

“Hey now,” Bofur said and peered concernedly at Bilbo. “That is not the sort of happy sigh I would except from someone who had just entered a courtship. I thought you were just feeling a bit upset about well, Kíli’s comment. The lad means well, but sometimes he doesn’t think things through. At least I think he’s dropped the egg idea.” Bofur winced a little and chuckled. “Though dropped may be a poor choice of words.”

“I don’t even want to know what you mean by the _egg idea_ ,” Bilbo said. “And I _am_ happy, or, at least I was before-“  
  
“What did Thorin do?”  
  
Bilbo glared at Bofur who held up his hands in defence.  
  
“No offence intended,” he protested. “But I don’t think it’s that far-fetched.”  
  
“Consequently, if you were unhappy, I should immediately accuse Fíli?”

“Well, if I was sitting all by my lonesome and sigh when someone mentioned him, then maybe. At the moment though he is just off to do princely stuff, checking our supplies and the like.” Bofur chuckled. “And hiding from you as well I think. But really, he didn't want Thorin to have to worry about it tomorrow. The supplies I mean.” Bofur nudged Bilbo’s shoulder with his own. “However, I don't think Fíli meant to leave him time to worry about other things. Does Thorin have cause to worry about other things?”  
  
Bilbo shook his head. “Thorin hasn't done anything wrong. He- he has been perfect.” Ever since Bilbo had found the ring at least. If you didn’t count the needless worrying about Bilbo’s Goblin bite, demanding that Bilbo needed to be carried over the river, and not trusting his abilities to make a safe-to-use herbal infusion. Fine, maybe Thorin hadn’t been perfect, but close enough. And even those actions seemed to indicate that something was wrong.

Bofur looked a bit sceptical, and despite having come to the conclusion that perfect was perhaps not the best word to use Bilbo still frowned at him on general principle.

“If you think so,” Bofur said noncommittally. “Though if you _do_ think so, I’m not seeing the problem.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little… _strange_?” Bilbo looked away from Bofur’s kind green eyes. “Him, me, it’s not really what you would have expected.”  
  
“Is this about what is proper?” Bofur asked warily.  
  
“No,” Bilbo protested. “Well, not really. It’s just, I didn’t- I wasn’t even sure Thorin _liked_ me much. Sometimes I thought he was just being kind.”  
  
Bofur snorted and again raised his hands when Bilbo turned to glare at him.  
  
“My apologies,” Bofur said and shook his head. “But really, Thorin has been crazy as a weasel about you for months.”

“ _Weasel_?” Bildo dragged a hand over his face. “Never mind. You knew, didn’t you. That I have feelings for him, and you knew that he-“

“Was as crazy as a weasel?” Bofur grinned.  
  
“Then why didn't you say anything!” Bilbo exclaimed and resisted the urge to thump his head against the tree again.  
  
Valar safe him from Dwarfs that just didn’t make _any_ sense what so ever. Was it magic or was it just more of the same kind of thinking that made them believe that coming to someone’s home and emptying their larder was perfectly normal? (Yes, Bilbo might still be a _little_ sore about that.)

“Would you have believed me if I did?” Bofur’s expression had turned more sober. “If I had told you: ‘Bilbo, now look here, Thorin is madly in love with you, please put him out of his misery’. Would you have believed that?”

 “I-“ Bilbo wasn’t really sure what to say. _Would_ he have believed that? And was what Bofur was saying really the truth, or was it part of the possible spell that the ring may, or may not, be weaving?  
  
Bofur shook his head.  “Or maybe you'd thought I was making fun. And when Thorin would have heard about it he would _not_ have thanked me for it.”  
  
“I just feel there is something wrong,” Bilbo said and fiddled with the fabric of his trouser leg.

“Like what?”

How to say that he suspected that the ring he’d found; a ring that makes him invisible by the way, might be able to make Thorin think he was in love with him. Bofur would think that he was insane. And there was no way Bilbo was putting on that innocently looking piece of metal again until Gandalf had declared it safe.

Where _was_ Gandalf.  
  
When Bilbo didn’t answer Bofur’s face wrinkled in concern.  
“He- you've got to understand that the last thing Thorin would want to do is to pressure you into doing something you don’t want.”

Now where did that come from?  
  
“Excuse me,” Bilbo crossed his arms. “What do you mean, ‘pressure me’? I am a grown Hobbit. I am perfectly capable of making up my own mind.”

Bofur shifted a little and pulled awkwardly at the left flap of his hat.  
“It’s not really for me to say.”

“You know what, I believe I _am_ going to yell at you,” Bilbo said between clenched teeth. Was there a guide book to Dwarfs somewhere? By this point Bilbo would gladly take any and all help in how to figure out what subject matters were considered to be suited for public discussion. “I-“  
  
Bilbo’s temper did not exactly cool itself when he realised that he’d lost Bofur’s attention. The Dwarf was now staring wide-eyed at something to Bilbo’s right.  
  
“What-” Bilbo turned around and was met by the sight of a walking hill of flowers, which on a second look revealed itself to be none other than Thorin; holding the biggest bouquet Bilbo had ever seen, and… was that a _pie_?  
  
“Clearly, there _is_ something wrong,” Bilbo hissed. “You can’t tell me that _that_ is normal.”  
  
-  
  
Ori must have gotten something wrong. Bilbo was supposed to _like_ the flowers. He was not supposed to look at them as if Thorin had hidden a couple of the giant bees somewhere amongst them. (If anyone asked, Thorin had _not_ been forced to sing that stupid song, the bees had just understood that he was someone they should not disturb, and there had been absolutely _no_ panicked running from flower to flower until Nori took mercy on him and told him about the song.)  
  
Maybe whatever message Thorin had managed to produce was some kind of insult or threat. (If you even could threat someone with flowers. And never mind that, why _would_ you threat someone with flowers?  A blade would work so much better.)  
  
When Thorin had then presented Bilbo with the crown he’d braided out of daisies (surely those were safe, Bilbo had given _him_ daisies after all) his Hobbit _had_ smiled at him, but it had been a little too wobbly for Thorin to feel completely reassured by it. Something was obviously wrong about the flowers.  
  
Luckily, Thorin had brought food as well. (This is why it paid off to make a list.)  
  
“I thought you might be hungry,” he said and knelt down by Bilbo’s side. “I think Fíli was looking for you just know,” he added with a pointed glare towards Bofur who was looking all too interested in the proceedings. Perhaps that was the problem. Bilbo was uncomfortable with the attention. Or maybe you weren’t supposed to give flowers in public at all. Bilbo had left the flowers in Thorin’s room, perhaps he should have left his in Bilbo's.  
  
“What? Ooooh,” Bofur said and scrambled to his feet. “Right.”  
  
Thorin nodded at him in thanks but the concerned glance Bofur sent Bilbo’s way before leaving was worrying.  
  
“I’m not sure I’m pleasant company right now,” Bilbo said when Thorin settled besides him. “But thank you, for the flowers, they are lovely and- is that raspberry?”  
  
After accepting the flowers Bilbo had simply gathered them in his lap, and now the Hobbit craned his neck to be able to peer over them towards the pie Thorin was holding. The crown of daisies on Bilbo’s head had already become a little lopsided as Thorin had accidentally made it just a smidge to big, and Thorin carefully pushed it away from Bilbo’s eyes with his free hand.  
  
Large hazel eyes blinked up at him and Thorin smiled at the slightly dazed look on Bilbo’s face. It would appear that food was indeed the best way of winning Bilbo’s heart. Thorin then had to struggle not to frown as he remembered that food was going to be scarce for the foreseeable future. Curse it.  
  
“It is indeed raspberry,” Thorin said, shaking off his gloomy thoughts. This would be a day where he thought nothing about the future, and just focused on the present. Tomorrow they would all have to start preparing to leave this unexpected place of rest and peace, but tomorrow was still a long way off.  
  
“I love raspberry pie,” Bilbo moaned and Thorin’s pulse sped up a little at the needy sound. (And if Thorin, for the briefest of moments, pretended that Bilbo’s words of love had not been for a _dessert_ , that was no one else’s business but his.)  
  
“I _love_ raspberry pie,” Bilbo repeated, all of a sudden looking a lot more glum.  
  
Thorin glanced down at the raspberry pie, which was of course still a raspberry pie. It hadn’t changed. So why was Bilbo suddenly not happy with it.

“Is the pie not to your taste after all?” Thorin asked and put the pie down on the ground. “Perhaps you would like to accompany me to the kitchens for a more substantial meal? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something Ori mentioned. He said that you were considering writing about this quest, and I was hoping you would tell me more.”  
  
Thorin had pretty soon realised that the part of the plan that had included talking about books had to be amended. The only books he’d read was all in Khuzdul, and it was not likely that Bilbo would have even heard of any of them. However, he thought that asking Bilbo about his own writing would be an excellent substitute.  
  
But the look on Bilbo’s face was not a smile. It looked a lot like distress, but _why_?

-

Judging by the sun, they were now about four hours into the courtship.  
  
Thorin had brought him about a fields worth of flowers, a raspberry pie, and he wanted to talk about his writing. _Right_.  
  
Bilbo needed to find Gandalf this very minute or he was going to do something unforgivable and just climb into Thorin’s lap and have him, in public no less! And he would have the pie too. Maybe at the same time. But he couldn’t do that, because he would never forgive himself if he took advantage of someone who didn’t want him. No matter how delicious they, and their pie, were.  
  
Bilbo’s mind lost focus as it got stuck on the idea of sharing a raspberry flavoured kiss with Thorin, and that quickly morphed into Thorin feeding him the pie while they were both naked, and-

 Gandalf! That was Gandalf, coming out from behind the corner of the house.

Bilbo scrambled to his feet (managing not to lose the flowers in the process) and tried to ignore the flash of hurt (?) he saw in Thorin’s eyes.

“Thank you, again, for the flowers. They are quite lovely. _Very_ lovely. I’ve never- They’re wonderful, but I really need to speak to Gandalf. I’ll- The pie. Maybe we can meet in the kitchens, in half-an hour?” Bilbo didn’t know how long it would take for the Wizard to determine if the ring was bewitching Thorin or not, but if it took longer than half-an hour Bilbo was just going to throw the damned ring at Gandalf and leave him to it.  
  
Before managing to talk himself out of it, Bilbo shuffled all the flowers to his left arm and bent to press a kiss to Thorin’s pursed lips. And another one. (Surely they’ve already kissed enough that he couldn’t damn himself further by stealing a few more.)

Thorin’s eyes were so incredibly blue when they looked up at Bilbo, and he had stopped frowning.  
  
The third kiss (the 17th in total,  but who was counting, not Bilbo…) was a little longer, and when Bilbo pulled back Thorin was smiling. He was beautiful. And Bilbo _really_ needed to find Gandalf before it was too late.  
  
“I’ll see you in the kitchens?”  
  
Thorin nodded slowly and Bilbo quickly walked away, pretending that three kisses - and two of those mere pecks, hadn’t managed to make him slightly week in the knees.  
  
-  
  
Thorin looked down at the pie, looked back up at the Hobbit who was walking away while clutching a bunch of flowers that was as wide as he was, and sighed. Instead of writing about their quest, maybe Bilbo could be convinced to write about the courting customs and traditions of Hobbits, because Thorin was going to run out of ideas soon.  
  
-  
  
“Gandalf!” Bilbo called as the Wizard disappeared around the other corner of the house. Or he tried to, but since he choked himself on cornflower that had decided to fly into his mouth what came out of it sounded more like ‘Gandarrrfgh’.

Cornflowers meant friendship, Bilbo’s mind helpfully informed him as he sputtered. And the blue irises meant hope. Though considering that the bouquet also had a branch of lilacs Bilbo thought it a bit unlikely that Thorin really knew what he was saying. Or at least, Bilbo couldn’t think of a reason why Thorin would want to tell him about charity.

“That is a most impressive collection of flowers,” Gandalf noted when Bilbo rounded the corner, still coughing a little. “Though is that a larkspur I see?”  
  
Thorin definitely didn’t know what he was saying, Bilbo concluded as he carefully fished the pink flower out of the bouquet. Not only was the plant poisonous, (it was lucky that it had been the cornflower that had decided to throw itself at him) it also symbolised fickleness.  After having liberated the flower Bilbo was at a loss what to do with it. He couldn’t just throw it away, Thorin had given it to him after all. With a sigh Bilbo put it back with the rest of the flowers. He would just have to make sure that no one could nibble on it. Including himself apprently.  
  
“I _really_ need to talk to you,” he told Gandalf. “And I really need to find something that could hold these,” he added and inclined his head towards the flowers. A bucket maybe. A big bucket.”  
  
“Perhaps I can assist with both of those matters,” Gandalf said with twinkling eyes. “I do believe I saw a fairly large bucket by the cow pasture when I walked by it earlier today. On the way there you could tell me what is on your mind.”  
  
“Cow pastures?” Bilbo asked, because he hadn’t seen a single cow so far during their stay at Beorn’s.  
  
“But of course,” Gandalf said. “Where else would the cream and cheese we’ve been served come from. “  
  
Knowing a valid point when he heard one Bilbo shrugged and followed Gandalf.  
  
On the way to the pasture Gandalf managed to coax all the events of the morning from Bilbo. Everything from what had made Bilbo want to strangle the youngest Durin to the entire story about the ring and Bilbo’s more recent suspicions about it.

“There are no such things as a love spells,” Gandalf said, annoyingly calm. “And I’m quite sure young Kíli meant no disrespect. Unlike Men, or Hobbits I might add, Dwarfs could not care less about what two people do together in the privacy of their own bedroom, regardless of the gender of the participants.”  
  
“You could have fooled me,” Bilbo muttered.  
  
“What I mean,” Gandalf said pointedly. “Is that he didn’t wish to cause offence by implying anything about you and Thorin. To Kíli there would simply have been nothing to imply.”  
  
“Fine,” Bilbo said and tried to cross his arms, but only managed to hit himself in the face with the flowers. “But what about the ring, don’t you think it is suspicious? It’s obviously magical, who knows what it can do apart from turning me invisible.”

It took Gandalf most of the walk to and fro the pasture to convince Bilbo that while the ring might be magical, there were _no such things as love spells_!  
  
“You don’t need to yell,” Bilbo said and tried to find a better grip on the bucket. “I just want to be sure.”  
  
Gandalf muttered something about Hobbits being deaf _and_ blind and stormed off in a huff.  Pursing his lips Bilbo mumbled something equally unpleasant about Wizards before continuing to lug the flower filled bucket towards the house.  
  
He needed to get them into his room and get water for them so he could go and meet Thorin. The walk to the pasture had taken a little longer than he’d expected, but around the fifth time Gandalf had told Bilbo that there was no such thing as a love spell, the Hobbit had indeed started to believe the Wizard, (but when he did get to his room, he might just leave the ring there for a while, to be sure) so he was definitely looking forward to seeing Thorin again. As an apology for being late he could perhaps offer to…  
  
Bilbo blushed and hurried his steps. No, that would not be proper in the kitchens _at all_.  
  
Just a few short minutes later found Bilbo entering the kitchens with a smile on his face. But that smiled faded quickly when met with the dark frown Thorin was wearing.  
  
“I think we need to talk,” the Dwarf said gravely and Bilbo’s hand jumped to his empty pocket. The ring was now tucked away in Bilbo’s room, beneath his pillow, and in front of him there seemed to be ample evidence that it _had_ indeed been its magic that had tricked Thorin into thinking himself in love with a simple Hobbit. Gandalf must have been wrong. Now that Bilbo didn’t have the ring anymore, Thorin knew that what he had been feeling wasn’t real, and naturally he was upset about it.  
  
Maybe getting yelled at was going to be better than just being shunned, Bilbo thought morosely as he followed Thorin towards the Dwarf’s room as he'd been asked. And it was awfully decent of Thorin to want to yell at him in private.  
  
-

The first thing Thorin saw when entering his room was his plan of courting. He almost panicked before he remembered that he had written the list in Khuzdul.  
  
Bilbo seemed uncharacteristically subdued as he closed the door behind them, which only fed the more paranoid part of Thorin that whispered that Bilbo didn’t really want this courtship, that he had changed his mind at that was why he’d been so distant earlier. That was why he had been late in getting to the kitchens.  
  
The more rational parts of Thorin was quick to point out that it made little sense. Why would Bilbo have initiated a kiss before he left if he didn’t want to? And was it really likely that the most stubborn being Thorin had ever met would change his mind over the course of a few hours? The kisses that they’d shared earlier that day left little doubt that Bilbo wanted him. Still, Thorin wanted there to be no shadows between them. Bilbo would not leave this room without knowing how much Thorin loved him, and with the grace of Mahal Thorin would receive similar declarations in return.  
  
No time like the present, Thorin thought and opened his mouth to speak:  
  
“I love you, Bilbo Baggins.”  
  
A flinch was not the response he had been hoping for.  
  
-  
  
Bilbo didn’t know if he’d breathed at all since entering Thorin’s room. He knew he deserved to hear it, but he didn’t want to listen to Thorin telling him that he should obviously have known right from the start that there’d been something wrong about the ring. Oh, right. Thorin didn’t actually know about the ring. Well, Bilbo didn’t much want to hear Thorin telling him that he’d been temporarily insane either, and now that he was back to his senses there was no way he was going to court a Hobbit.

“I love you, Bilbo Baggins.”  
  
When Thorin had begun to speak Bilbo had flinched, so certain in his knowledge that Thorin would condemn him that it took a good few seconds for him to actually comprehend what Thorin was actually saying.

“You, love me,” Bilbo repeated. His hand scrambled over his pocket again, but no, there was no ring, and besides, Gandalf _had_ said… (and yelled...)

“I do,” Thorin said solemnly and Bilbo frowned.  
  
“You don’t seem very happy about it.” The Hobbit had no sooner finished speaking before he realised how stupid a thing it was to say and he flushed a deep red. “I mean, I love you too.”  
  
“And you don’t sound very certain about it,” Thorin said and crossed his arms. “Are you sure?”  
  
“I think I know my own mind,” Bilbo said and crossed his arms as well. “And my heart.” Especially his heart. The damned thing just wouldn’t shut up. “And that was very rude. How would you feel if I questioned your feelings.”  
  
“Are you calling me a liar?” Thorin asked and took a step forward.  
  
“No, I’m calling you _rude_ ,” Bilbo said and glared at the thick-headed Dwarf in front of him. The nerve. First he grinds out the words as if they’re a-  
Right about there Bilbo’s mind pointed out to him that it was probably the height of idiocy to be arguing with the one he loved, who had just revealed that those feelings were returned, over the fact that his feelings were returned.  
  
-  
  
Thorin still wanted that book about Hobbit courtships. But it could wait until Bilbo had stopped kissing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Gandalf has no reason to really suspect the Ring of being THE RING, if you know what I mean. He is like, oh, magic ring, yeah I've seen a couple of those before, NO THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A LOVE SPELL YOU THICK HOBBIT. ARGH!
> 
> So if anyone was wondering if this be the start of the LOTR storyline, sorry, nope! Or not sorry, because that is a really angsty, miserable storyline, and would not really fit into this at all. 
> 
> If you want that I suggest that you go read "to change the course of the future" by, [authoressjean](../../../users/authoressjean/pseuds/authoressjean)  
> 
> which is an absolutely awesome story. But also about a bazillion times more angsty than this one. (bring tissues)


	47. Interlude - Plans, Worries and Realisations - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in there is a lack of raspberry pies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG there is a third part to this... /o\ But only a short one.

Thorin was definitely going to put food at the top of his courting ideas. After kissing the breath out of him, Bilbo had murmured something about raspberry pie and then suddenly there had been a lot less clothes. And then no clothes at all.  
  
Thorin had been forced to silently count different kinds of gemstones in order to not embarrass himself, a tactic which he feared had only been moderately successful. His Hobbit might be shy at times, but he was definitely not without experience. (And if Thorin didn't want to think to closely on how there had to be other people involved when one went about acquiring such experience, well, that was his business alone)  
  
Afterwards Bilbo had fallen asleep even though it was just early afternoon and the more sensible part of Thorin (the part that wasn’t still stuck on a loop of Opal. Ruby. _Bilbo_. Diamond. Emerald. Jasper. _Bilbo_.) worried that his Hobbit was perhaps more worn out by the recent events than he’d let any of them know. (By recent events Thorin meant being chased by Goblins and Orcs, and not what they’d just done in his bed. At least he _mostly_ meant being chased by Goblins and Orcs.)

Thorin didn’t feel a bit sleepy himself, but it was no burden to remain in bed with Bilbo. Just like at the foot of the Carrock his Hobbit seemed determined to wrap as much of himself around Thorin as possible, making it difficult for the Dwarf to move without disturbing him.  
  
But unlike their earlier rest together Thorin now knew that Bilbo wouldn’t shy away from him upon waking. Hence, the king was perfectly content even though his arm had gone numb almost as soon as Bilbo had closed his eyes. It was a small sacrifice to make.  
  
In his sleep Bilbo had plastered himself along Thorin’s front, with one arm and one leg thrown over Thorin’s chest and hip; anchoring him to the bed. Curls ticked at Thorin’s throat and the hair on Bilbo’s feet tickled his legs. For all the hair covering them, Hobbit toes turned out to be just as cold as his own could get and Thorin shivered a little when Bilbo shifted in a way that dragged those chilly points against his shin.  
  
A soft exhale, and then hazel eyes opened to blink sleepily at Thorin.

“You brought me flowers, and pie,” Bilbo murmured and Thorin huffed out a laugh.  
  
“I promise to do it many more times,” he said. “Especially if it will yield such rewards.”  
  
It was impossible to see if Bilbo’s cheeks flushed or not as they were already rosy from sleep and their lovemaking, but Thorin had a distinct feeling that they might have done so.  
  
“I’ll have you know I’ve shown great restraint,” Bilbo said haughtily as he moved to straddle Thorin’s stomach. (Thorin let out a quiet sigh of relief as he felt his arm return to life.) “It’s not easy to be around someone who has so little sense of modesty. I feared by ears would never stop burning the other night when you paraded about without a shirt.”  
  
Oh, Thorin thought. It _hadn’t_ been the start of a fever. Perhaps he owed an apology to Óin.  
  
With the arm that wasn’t burning and tingling Thorin reached up to cup the side of Bilbo’s face.  
  
“So I am immodest, am I?” he teased as he stretched up to press his lips to a gently smirking mouth. He was denied when Bilbo leant back and fitted his hands against Thorin’s chest, curling his fingers into the hair they found there.

“Terribly sorry, but I’m afraid so,” his Hobbit lamented even as his face revealed he wasn’t feeling particularly apologetic. “Though I’m sure it doesn’t come as a great shock.”  
  
Taking advantage of the fact that the beds in this place was meant for beings much larger than a Dwarf and Hobbit, Thorin surged up and toppled Bilbo backwards, the size of the bed ensuring that his Hobbit landed softly. Bracing himself over a slightly dizzy looking Bilbo it was Thorin’s turn to smirk.  
  
“I think I can live with this,” Thorin said before claiming Bilbo’s mouth. The Dwarf smiled into the kiss as his Hobbit squirmed petulantly before tangling his hands into Thorin’s hair.  
  
“Don’t think,” Bilbo said after nipping Thorin’s bottom lip reproachfully, “That you can-“  
  
A growl interrupted him and they both looked down to Bilbo’s belly; the point of origin for the noise.  
  
“Now that I think about it,” Bilbo said thoughtfully. “I never did get to eat any of the that pie.”  
  
It was possible, Thorin thought five minutes later as Bilbo dragged him down the hallways, that there were at least _some_ downsides to mixing food and courtships.  
  
-  
  
His pie was missing. And the puppies had some very curious red stains around their greedy little snouts.  
  
Hands on his hips Bilbo glared down at the five balls of fur that looked back at him with their best innocent expressions.  
  
“There are other pies,” Thorin said and put his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, but Bilbo would not be swayed from his righteous fury.  
  
“None of them are raspberry,” he said sternly and plucked one of the puppies from the floor to give it a careful shake. (It might have been a little _thief_ , but it was still a _little_ thief.) “Couldn’t you have eaten the one with the plum preserves?”  
  
The puppy’s eyes widened and it made a morose little whine before wagging its stubby tail in apology.  
  
“No,” Bilbo said flatly. “That’s not going to work on me. I’ve seen better. I've used better during my own pie-stealing days.” The puppy grumbled before trying to squirm free. “There will be no more stories for you,” Bilbo warned as he set the pup back down, steeling himself against the full onslaught of five distraught puppies staring pleadingly at him.  
  
At his side Thorin tried to hide a snort in a cough and Bilbo poked him in the ribs.  
  
“Imagine if you will, you, me, a raspberry pie. In bed. I’m feeding you a piece and the juice dripping down your bare chest. Forcing me to clean it up. With my tongue.”  
  
Thorin wasn’t laughing any longer and his eyes had gone dark and hot.  
  
“But that’s not going to happen because there isn’t any dam- ruddy raspberry pie,” Bilbo finished and glared down at the puppies. “It’s probably not even good for you. But when you get a belly ache, don’t come complaining to me.”  
  
“There is pie with blackberries,” Thorin said hopefully.  
  
-  
  
No, he had been right the first time. Food and courtships was a most wonderous combination.  
  
"Oh, I spilled some on myself," his Hobbit said with mock-surprise and Thorin smiled as he caught Bilbo's berry stained fingers and brought them to his mouth.  
  
"Don't get any on the bed," Bilbo moaned. "Blackberry stains are-"  
  
"If you can worry about stains I am doing something wrong," Thorin said and pressed kisses along Bilbo's arm and shoulder. He spent a while investigating Bilbo's collar bones as this was an area he'd missed before.  
  
"No," Bilbo said faintly. "You are doing great."  
  
"I am not being too.. immodest?" Thorin asked as he moved his attention further down. "I do not wish to cause offence."  
  
As he reached Bilbo's pleasingly rounded belly it gave a short rumble.  
  
"Oh," Bilbo said. "Well, I've still not actually had much pie to _eat_."  
  
Thorin sighed and stretched out one arm for the pie plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I needed to write the proof that Thorin and Bilbo won't revert to their previous default settings of thick-headed obliviousness the minute they were alone together. I guess mutual declarations of love and then spending a good long while wrapped around each other is very... reassuring. Amongst other things... *wink wink nudge nudge*
> 
> Can't promise that everything is smooth sailing from now, but at least we really should be done with this "does he like me?" nonsense ;)
> 
> Next time we'll go back to Fíli.


	48. Life Can Be So Traumatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Fíli makes a good show at being at least somewhat majestic, but it doesn't last very long.

Having talked to the dogs about the food and supplies Beorn had agreed to send with the Company, Fíli then stopped by the rabbits to tell them that they _probably_ didn’t need to follow Thorin around anymore.  
  
The Dwarf made sure to thank them profusely for their help, because he was quite sure that it was extremely well deserved. Something had obviously made Bilbo act, and it could very well have been due to the Hobbit seeing a softer side of Fíli’s uncle. Thorin was a good king, and a great uncle, but few people would use words like ‘gentle’, ‘cuddly’ or ‘indulgent’ to describe him; those was sides of his personality that only his closest family and friend would see. (All right, maybe not even Thorin’s family thought he was particularly ‘cuddly’, and if Bilbo got to see _that_ side, Fíli was pretty sure he didn’t want to know about it.)

As Fíli strolled back to the house he spotted Bofur wandering around, looking a bit lost. Well, not lost-lost, because it would be hard to get truly lost when standing a mere 100 feet or so away from their host’s house. _Aimless_ might be a better word for the drifting quality of Bofur’s movements.

“Bofur!” Fíli called, smiling as the other Dwarf turned his way.  
  
“Oh, so you _are_ looking for me?” Bofur said as Fíli got closer. “Thorin said as much but I thought that was just code for ‘go away and leave me alone with Bilbo’. It's fairly new, so I'm still working out the finer details of that one.” He frowned. “Bilbo seemed a bit out of sorts, I’ll check on him later I think, once Thorin isn’t around to glare at me for it. But what did you want now that you’ve found me?”

“Well, for one I always want to know to know where you are when you're not by my side.” Fíli paused for a second, and then grimaced. “In my head that didn’t sound at nearly as… menacingly needy. May I try again?”

 Bofur chuckled and lightly pulled one of Fíli’s braids before cupping his face in one big, rough hand.

“Don't worry yourself I know what you mean. It’s when you bring out the leash I make Bombur sit on you.” Bofur’s green eyes were smiling just as much as his mouth was. “So, you done being princely now? Or, not done, but-”  
  
“The dogs will have supplies ready before us before we leave, yes,” Fíli smiled and leaned in to press his forehead to Bofur’s, or well, against Bofur’s hat.  
  
“Hmm, no more plotting to get your uncle and Bilbo together,” Bofur murmured as he slid his arms around Fíli’s waist. “Or I bloody well hope so or I might have to ask Bombur to sit on _them_. And no more princely duties, at least not until a bit closer to our departure I guess. What will you busy yourself with for the rest of the day?”  
  
“Well-“ Fíli stroked his fingers along Bofur’s moustache, tugging at it lightly to bring Bofur’s mouth closer to his. “I can thi-“  
  
“BROTHER!”  
  
It wasn’t Kíli or Bombur who had interrupted them. It was Kíli AND Bombur who had interrupted them.  
  
“Anyone repair the trellis yet?” Fíli asked with a sigh. “Though I guess that’s not much use against Kíli.”  
  
“No, and _no_ ,” Bofur sighed. “I was planning on asking Bifur to help me later today.”  
  
“Fíli you have to help me!”  
  
“Brother, it is a disaster!”  
  
“Well,” Bofur murmured. “At least whatever it is has made him forgot to tease me.”  
  
The pair reluctantly parted before turning to face their respective sibling. Fíli did not much care for the look in Kíli’s eyes. Where Bombur looked rather upset and distraught, Kíli’s eyes had that all too familiar light that indicated that a _Plan_ was not far away. A plan that Kíli would drag Fíli into, and then Thorin would yell at them. Maybe. Because with Thorin and Bilbo actually being together now Thorin might be a little too busy to care about whatever Kíli was planning. Especially since it wouldn’t be about them this time since they were together already.  
  
“You’ve got to help me with Bilbo,” Kíli said as he grasped Fíli’s shoulder.  
  
Or it _would_ be about them. And Thorin _would_ yell and look disappointed, and Kíli would use those damned eyes of his that reflected guilt, and somehow it would end up being all Fíli’s fault. Fíli sighed.  
  
“Kíli, don’t you think it’s time to let Thorin and Bilbo sort out themselves,” he suggested, but before Kíli could answer he was interrupted by Bombur.  
  
“Something horrible has happened!” the big Dwarf cried and both Fíli and Kíli swivelled around to look at him and Bofur. What was this? Had Bombur accidentally sat on one of his new feathery friends?  
  
Fíli discretely looked for feathers on Bombur’s backside as the rotund redhead clung to Bofur; who really had to dig his feet in just to avoid falling on his arse as Bombur leaned most of his considerable weight against his brother.  
   
“Bombur, what’s the matter?” Bofur said and patted Bombur on his shoulder (he couldn’t quite reached around his brother to pat him on the back). “Is everyone all right? Is _Bifur_ all right?”  
  
“What?” Bombur pulled back, confused. “Oh, everyone is fine.”  
  
“Are the chickens all right?” Fíli interjected, but Bombur didn’t seem to hear him. His face had fallen once more and he gripped Bofur’s shoulders, giving his brother a small shake.  
  
“There is,” Bombur began slowly and gravely as if wanting to make sure his brother was well prepared for the words that would come. “No more, raspberry pie. None.”  
  
Fíli turned to look at Kíli and as one they then shrugged. A lack of raspberry pie was not particularly nice, but it wasn’t particularly bad either. And since there had been a distinct lack of any sorts of pie up until they arrived at Beorn’s home, they were quite used to it.  
  
“Right,” Kíli said and grabbed Fíli’s shoulder. “Back to my Hobbit problem. I want to apologize to Bilbo, but I don’t know what I can do that won’t end up making things worse.”  
  
Fíli sighed again and nudged Kíli a little closer to Bofur and Bombur.  
  
“Bofur,” he said and adopted his best pleading expression when the other Dwarf looked at him. “Trade you?”    
  
Really, Bofur was probably a lot better at figuring out what Bilbo would consider a nice gesture of apology. Compared to that, cheering Bombur up over a lack of pies was child’s play.

“I don't know.” Bofur looked sceptical. “Pies won't yell at me.”

“Bilbo yelled at you?” Fíli asked.

“He can’t just take the pie because he’s King!” Bombur exploded and everyone turned to look at him. Fíli privately thought that being king might actually give you pie-taking permission, but he wisely kept that thought to himself as to not start a rebellion.

“Thorin took the pie?” Kíli asked and blinked. “Why would he take a pie?”  
  
“He gave it to Bilbo,” Bofur said and rolled his eyes. “Together with enough flowers to make Beorn’s bees want to cry.”  
  
“That is not an excuse,” Bombur said grumpily. “Only tyrants take the people’s pie. Thorin isn’t a tyrant. Or at least, he _wasn’t_.”  
  
“Uncle is not a _tyrant_ ,” Kíli protested.  
  
“If he isn’t, he shouldn’t take the only raspberry pie,” Bombur said and crossed his arms as best as he could over his belly.  
  
“It’s Bilbo’s favourite.” Bofur looked thoughtful. “I think I’m actually impressed that Thorin knew that, our burglar has only mentioned it in passing.”  
  
“Stop shoving me towards Bofur,” Kíli grumbled and aimed a smack to the back of Fíli’s head. “Help me instead. I’ve already asked Dwalin but he refused. Said it wasn’t his business. But you’re my brother, you have to help.”  
  
“I don’t think you quite understand the seriousness of this situation,” Bombur huffed. “Raspberries aren’t even properly in season yet. The dogs only collected enough for one pie. Mahal only knows when we’ll see a raspberry pie again considering that we’ll have to leave here soon.”  
  
“Right,” Fíli said, finally fed up. “Kíli, Bombur, there is _one_ solution to both your problems.” And to mine, he added silently and glared at the interrupters of what had appeared to be a perfectly nice snog.  
  
“What?” Kíli and Bombur chorused.  
  
“Go and pick raspberries,” Fíli said flatly. “And don’t come back until you have enough for one pie for Bombur and one pie for Bilbo. Then you’ll go ask the dogs, nicely, to make more pies. That way you’ll have both a pie-” he looked to Bombur before turning to Kíli. “And an apology.”  
  
Kíli and Bombur mulled this over.  
  
“I still don’t think it is right that he just _took_ the pie,” Bombur said sullenly, but he allowed himself to be dragged off by a beaming Kíli.  
  
“Thanks brother, knew I could count on you!”  
  
Fíli and Bofur sighed simultaneously and Fíli slung his arm around Bofur’s shoulder.  
  
“Maybe I can help you with the trellis,” he suggested. “That way we’ll have an escape route available if they come back and complain that they aren’t finding any raspberries.”  
  
“Or we could continue where we left things,” Bofur said and turned his head to kiss Fíli. “You are very handsome when you are being commanding,” he murmured when they parted.  
  
“Is that so?” Fíli grinned. “Then I command you to follow me to my room before our brothers are back.”  
  
“As my prince wishes,” Bofur smirked and started dragging Fíli towards the house.  
  
“I’m not sure this counts as following,” Fíli observed amused.  
  
“Then walk quicker,” Bofur suggested. “Who knows if they even went in the right direction. If we’re unlucky they could be back any minute.”  
  
-  
  
Thankfully Fíli and Bofur managed to get to the latter’s room in time and a large part of the afternoon was spent in bed before both their stomachs let them know that the last time they ate was at breakfast and threatened to start chewing on their spines.  
  
“Did you really have to destroy _all_ my braids?” Fíli complained as he knelt down to look beneath the bed for a missing clasp.  
  
“There’s one still left,” Bofur said cheerfully and Fíli snorted and stood back up, silver clasp in hand.  
  
“You will help me fix them before we leave this room.  
  
“How horrible,” Bofur said with a wink. “I don’t know how I will manage to stomach touching your pretty golden hair.”  
  
“Pretty?” Fíli raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Pretty, fine-looking, fetching, handsome,” Bofur grinned back at him. “What I’m saying is that it’s _such_ a burden to-“  
  
Kissing someone to shut them up might not be very polite, but it was _very_ effective.  
  
“I do like your hair,” Bofur said softly. “It was one of the first things I noticed about you. Of course I’d still want you if you were as bald as Dwalin, but this-” he tangled his hands in Fíli’s unbound locks. “This is very lovely indeed. It’s just like gold, or sunlight, or a thousand other ridiculously lovely things.”

“Then braid it,” Fíli murmured and pressed the beads and clasps into Bofur’s hand. “Mark me as yours.”

One thing led to another (Bofur _really_ loved Fíli’s hair it would seem) and despite the protest from their stomachs it was almost another hour before Fíli (hair now neatly braided but still managing to look dishevelled) and Bofur (well, he always looked a bit dishevelled) managed to get themselves out of the room and on their way to the kitchens.

 _However_ , and to their stomachs loud complaints, they were stopped even before managing to leave the second corridor.  
  
They were just about to take a turn into the hallway that would take them to the main hall when Kíli almost bowled into them.  
  
“Do not go that way,” Kíli warned, eyes wild. “Go back, there’s a window we can climb out of. That’s safer.”

“What is it?” Fíli demanded, hand creeping down to _not_ -rest at a blade that was lying safely in his room. He really needed to get back into the practice of arming himself wherever he went.  
  
“It’s Uncle and Bilbo,” Kíli said just as Fíli noticed the pie clutched in Kíli’s hands. “Oh, I’m never going to be able to sleep again. Every time I close my eyes-” Kíli shuddered.  
  
“What’s happened?” Bofur asked.

Kíli laughed but it wasn’t a happy sound.  
  
“I was just going to give Bilbo his pie, but I couldn’t find him, so I thought I’d leave it in his room so Bombur wouldn’t eat it. But when I got closer I heard a noise, so I figured Bilbo was actually to be found inside his room.”

Kíli shuddered again.  
  
“Let’s just say that he wasn’t alone, and that he most definitely did not hear me knocking, and what sounded like ‘come in’ _really_ wasn’t. I don’t think either of them even knew I was there.” He pressed the pie into Fíli’s hands. “If you’ll excuse me I’m going to see if there is any way of getting drunk. Failing that, I’m asking a bee to poke my eyes out so I’ll never have to see something like that again.”  
  
Fíli stared blankly down at the pie as his brother disappeared behind them.

“Is it bad form if we eat the pie?” Bofur said thoughtfully.

“I’m not eating a pie that has seen Thorin naked,” Fíli protested, knowing very well that it sounded ridiculous, but not being able to help it. “And you are not doing it either.”  
  
“Give it here then, I’ll go knock really loudly on their door. I guess you’ll want to sneak out of the same window as Kíli?”  
  
Fíli nodded vigorously. “Meet you in the kitchens?” he asked as he passed Bofur the pie.  
  
“You are really lucky you are so lovely,” Bofur sighed. “Yes, meet you there.”  
  
“Love you,” Fíli called as Bofur turned to walk towards the hallway of Doom. “You are very brave.” Then he turned on his heel and scurried after Kíli.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a bit of a hurry, so I've just barely read through this. Hope it's not too riddled with weird things.


	49. Oh, There Was A Dragon In This Quest?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storytime, and Fíli and Thorin "talk" about the importance of not telling Hobbits what to do.

“Bilbo,” Fíli said and put down the piece of bread he’d been holding. “I just remembered that you never told us about how you escaped the Goblins.”

They had all just sat down for supper and Fíli _might_ have been trying to figure out a way to distract Bilbo enough that he’d stop looking at Thorin for two seconds. More for Kíli’s sake than for his own of course. Though thankfully nothing else traumatic had happened since Kilis unfortunate discovery and their less than graceful escape from Beorn’s house. (One of the ponies had seen them as they were climbing out of the window and Fíli would swear that the nickering sounded more like _snickering_. But the rest of the afternoon had been remarkably unremarkable.

Bofur had gone off with Bifur to repair the trellis. Bombur had become his usual cheerful (and slightly obnoxious) self after getting his pie, and it would appear that Dwalin had managed to convince Kíli that getting drunk and it poking out eyes was not necessary because Fíli's brother was still sober and seeing.

 Fíli himself had spent his afternoon with the rest of the company, excepting previously mentioned members, and also excepting his uncle and Bilbo who seemed determined to make up for three months spent as idiots. Oh, they did eventually come out of Bilbo’s room, but even then they kept to themselves, which probably was just as well considering that they did little but make calf-eyes at each other and kiss. Maybe they talked some, but likely not too much as neither of them managed to put their foot in it.

 Several times when seeing them Fíli had flashbacks to seeing his parents kiss as a little boy. And yes, the urge to tell them to _quit it_ was still there. Which was just idiotic considering all the effort Fíli had put into getting them together in the first place.  
  
“Oh, no I didn’t, did I,” Bilbo said, looking rather startled. “I’m sorry. I keep meaning to, but something always gets in the way.”  
  
“This is your chance then,” Glóin boomed and gestured with his fork and their host looked questioningly at Bilbo.  
  
“Indeed,” he said. “I’ll admit to being curious as to how such a small one managed to escape by himself.”  
  
It was hard to judge who looked more offended; Bilbo or Thorin.  Bilbo was quicker to speak up though.  
  
“Excuse me,” he said indignantly and glared at Beorn. “I’ll have you know that I’m not small, nor defenceless if that is what you were implying.”  
  
Fíli and Kíli exchanged a look. Their burglar might have a point with his second statement, but he was rather small. But unlike their host they knew better than to point that out. And since Fíli was such a considerate Dwarf he helpfully elbowed Bofur before his lover would let his mouth run away with him.  
  
Bofur grumbled, but Fíli had seen him open his mouth to speak, so it was all for the best.  
  
Beorn seemed pretty unimpressed by Bilbo’s declaration of his size and defensive capabilities.  
  
“So tell us, how did you escape?”  
  
Bilbo blinked. “Oh, right. Well, it started with the Goblins not noticing when I stayed behind when they herded the rest of you away.”  
  
“Ah, are you saying that you somehow escaped their notice?” Beorn asked, looking smug. “Could it be that you were just small enough to overlook?”  
  
“I- no,” Bilbo protested. “Everyone else was just very loud.”

As Bilbo continued his story Fíli had to concede that their burglar was doing a fairly poor job of convincing anyone that he was not conveniently pocket sized. Hiding beneath mushrooms for one. That had to be a sign of tininess. Thorin on the other hand appeared to care more about the number of times Bilbo just narrowly avoided to get killed.  
  
“He threatened to eat you?” Thorin growled, looking as if he considered to go back to the caves and personally strangle the weird creature that Bilbo had met inside the mountain.

“That is what you're going to focus on?” Nori asked incredulously. “He is obviously not eaten, and he just told us that he has a ring to make him _invisible_.”  
  
“I felt sorry for him,” Bilbo said slowly. “I’ve never seen a more pitiable creature. Before I left the caves I had the chance to kill him-“  
  
“Good,” Thorin grumbled.  
  
“But I _didn’t_ ,” Bilbo continued with a pointed glare towards Thorin who crossed his arms and looked put out. “I couldn’t kill someone who was defenceless.”  
  
“He threatened to eat you,” Thorin repeated, and Fíli rather thought that his uncle had a point.  
  
“Ring. Of. Invisibility,” Nori said and smacked his palm down on the table as he said each word. “Don’t you realise what this means? Forget everything I’ve said about Bilbo not being a good burglar – sorry,” he added and winked at the Hobbit.  
  
“No that’s all right,” Bilbo said and shrugged one shoulder. “It’s fair enough.”  
  
“This is going to be a _definite_ advantage if the old lizard isn’t quite as dead as I’m hoping.”  
  
From the way Thorin suddenly tensed Fíli had the sneaking suspicion that his uncle had conveniently forgotten about the exact nature of the job they had hired Bilbo to perform. _Great_.  Well, at least Nori looked pleased.  
  
“Could I see that ring?” their resident thief asked, an innocent expression on his face.  
  
“It’s in my room,” Bilbo said and scowled at Nori. “And no, you can’t.”  
  
“I’m not going to take it,” Nori sniffed. “I just wanted to have a look. I don’t need a ring to go unnoticed. There was this one time-”  
  
Dori coughed pointedly and nodded towards Ori, who sighed long-sufferingly and smeared a thick layer of butter on another piece of bread.  
  
“My ears won’t fall of if I hear about Nori’s thefts,” their Scribe pointed out as he stabbed his knife into the butter.  
  
“Thefts sound so cheap.” Nori stared contemplatively up into the ceiling. “I don’t particularly favour cheap things.”  
  
Both Dori and Dwalin snorted and Nori pouted for two seconds before shrugging it off to start pestering Bilbo about the ring again. But despite the debate that started, Fíli’s gaze was more drawn to Thorin. His uncle did _not_ look happy. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists and casting sidelong glances at Bilbo; who was too busy arguing with Nori to see them.  
  
Yeah, Fíli did not see that Thorin forbidding Bilbo to face Smaug would go over well no matter how Thorin managed to phrase it. And for the record, Fíli didn’t think his uncle would phrase it very well.  Unfortunately Thorin was too far away for Fíli to discretely point out that forbidding Bilbo to do anything was a _Bad_ idea. Luckily, Fíli was an amazing nephew so he did the next best thing.  
  
Thorin did not look happier after Fíli had lobbed a piece of cheese at his head, but it sure did catch his attention.  
  
 _Sorry_. Fíli signed in Iglishmêk and tried to look suitably contrite. _Not forbid about Dragon.  
  
_ Iglishmêk was a very useful language, but it was more useful when it came to less complicated subjects and not really meant to be used to discuss the merits of telling Hobbits what not to do. Fíli didn’t even know the sign for Hobbit for one, or if there even was one. Instead he slightly inclined his head in a nod towards Bilbo. _If you forbid, upset.  
  
_ No one could manage to look quite as unimpressed as Thorin. With a frown on his face he quickly glanced at Bilbo (who was now arguing with Nori about if Hobbits was just trusting of their neighbours or if they really were a thief’s dream come true – “You don’t even lock your doors?!”) before turning his attention back to Fíli.  
  
 _If not forbid, dead_. Thorin signed and Fíli winced.  
  
 _Not dead when Trolls, Goblins, Orcs._ He argued. From the look on Thorin’s face, this was not a good argument. Fair enough, but that didn’t change that Bilbo would not take kindly to being told what to do. _Don’t forbid_. Fïli signed empathically.   _Explain_.  
  
 _Explain Dragon_? Thorin signed, mouth a thin line. _Teeth. Claws. Fire. Dead.  
  
_ When put like that Fíli didn’t want Bilbo alone with a Dragon any more than Thorin wanted it. Of course he didn’t. But Thorin should know by now that telling Bilbo that he couldn’t do something just made him all that more determined to do it. Surely the incident where Bilbo had declared he’d stare at Kíli all he damned pleased had not already been forgotten?  
  
 _Good reasons_. Fíli nodded. _Explain reasons._  
  
Thorin crossed his arms, clearly signalling that the conversation was over and Fíli sighed. He’d done his best.  
  
-  
  
After supper Fíli managed to grab Kíli and hiss at him to distract Thorin.  
  
“How?” Kíli hissed back.  
  
“Figure it out quickly.” Fíli shoved Kíli in their uncle’s general direction. “I need to talk to Bilbo, alone.”  
  
Bilbo looked a little apprehensive when Fíli grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the house, onto the porch.  
  
“Are you sure it’s safe to be out after dark?” the Hobbit asked and looked around as if there would be bears coming out of the bushes at any given moment.  
  
“Since Beorn is inside and currently man-shaped, I’d say so.” Fíli looked over his shoulder. No Thorin. Good. “I need to talk to you about Thorin.” Bilbo’s apprehension did not exactly lessen. “Or rather, what Thorin is going to talk to you about.”  
  
“If you’ve told Thorin anything about me having children,” Bilbo began, and Fíli hurriedly shook his head.  
  
“NO!” he protested. “Nothing like that. I-,” Fíli sighed. “Thorin is going to ask you not to go anywhere near Smaug.”  
  
“But he hired me to be a burglar,” Bilbo said and crossed his arms. “Because you need a burglar. Though I’ll admit I’m still not entirely clear on why. It’s not like it’s possible to steal an entire mountain.”  
  
“Be that as it may,” Fíli said diplomatically. “I’m just asking that you won’t yell at him. He won’t mean to-“ the blond Dwarf scrambled for the best expression, found none, and settled for “-cause offence…”  
  
“I’m not going to- fine.” Bilbo huffed. “Can we go back inside now?”  
  
Bilbo huffed – with a few ‘omph’s added - even louder when Fíli wrapped him up in a hug. The Hobbit’s arms flailed a bit before he tentatively settled them on Fíli’s back, giving a couple a pats.  
  
“I’m really glad you came with us, Bilbo,” Fíli murmured as he drew back. “And so is Thorin.”  
  
“And the rest of us,” Bofur added as he stepped out onto the porch. “Though I thought you might like to know that Nori was last seen heading in the general direction of your bedroom. Which happens to be in the opposite direction of his own.”  
  
Bilbo groaned. “That’s it, I’m going to get Dwalin to confiscate his daggers. Just on general principle.”  
  
After Bilbo had stormed off to defend his magical ring (Fíli didn’t know why he didn’t just show it to Nori to have it done with. If it was a good fit for Bilbo’s finger than it must be much too small to fit Nori’s) Bofur walked up and snaked his arms around Fíli’s waist from behind, resting his head on Fíli’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.  
  
“Almost our last night here,” he murmured. “What say you we go make the most of it?”  
  
Fíli grinned and turned inside Bofur’s arms to give him a proper kiss.  
“Grab the butter and meet me in your room?”  
  
“I thought you thought that was too messy?”  
  
“Might as well get used to it, because if Thorin tries to forbid Bilbo from going into Erebor things are going to get very messy indeed. But let’s not talk about them.”  
  
Bofur laughed. “Fine, I’ll swing by the kitchens. But after that I expect you to be doing most of the work. You owe me for delivering the pie to those who shall not be talked about.”  
  
Fíli winced. “Really, let’s not talk about _that_. Just the mental image alone will make sure I have nightmares for a decade. I'll do anything you want, just don't bring that up again.”  
  
"That is a tempting offer," Bofur smirked. "I'll consider that while I go to the kitchens."  
  
"Please do," Fíli smiled and pressed a kiss to Bofur's lips. "Or you could consider that I'll be going to your room, where I will be naked on the bed, waiting for you."  
  
Bofur blinked. "I'll be quick."  
  
"Oh, not in all things I hope."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peeps, I'm curious about you who are reading this. Where are you from?


	50. One Step Forward, Tw- Crap I Stepped In Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author wonders if a modern!au version of Bofur would actually be qualified to run couple's therapy sessions. Though just having Thorin and Bilbo as clients would get old fast. Fíli would be really cute as his secretary though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who answered to the question in my last chapter :) You are awesome.
> 
> And as always, thanks to everyone who is reading and have left kudos and comments. You are also incredible.

The next morning it was quite obvious that Thorin had told Bilbo about his desire to not see the Hobbit eaten by a Dragon. Though judging by Thorin’s hangdog expression and Bilbo’s pinched mouth – and the way they were at opposite ends of the table - Fíli would bet that his uncle had not really worded his request as such.  
  
In fact, Fíli would not be surprised to have been told that Thorin – despite Fíli’s helpful tips at supper – had more or less told Bilbo that he would only get close to Smaug over Thorin’s dead body, without really going into detail about why it was a bad idea. (Except for the part about Thorin's dead body, because that was obviously a really bad idea.)  
  
It wasn't that Bilbo couldn't manage to figure out on his own that a huge fire breathing lizard was not pleasant company, but there was a difference between knowing that and actually having seen for yourself as people were killed; like Thorin had.  
  
Fíli knew that Thorin hadn’t really been all that enthusiastic about him and Kíli joining the quest for that very reason; he didn’t think they knew what they were getting themselves into. (And that was putting it mildly.)  
  
To be fair, _sometimes_ (though not as often as to call it usually… not really...) Fíli and Kíli didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. Some things just seemed like the perfect idea at the time, and then the next time it just seemed like a whole bunch of mistakes wrapped into a bundle of woops.  Or, to use an actually example: as a deranged horse that had just destroyed Thorin’s bed. But unlike that incident that was best left forgotten (sadly it seemed that Thorin had indeed not forgotten it at all) Fíli hadn’t regretted coming on the quest for even a moment’s time. Not truly.  
  
Sure, it was not a pleasure to be on the road and having to bed down on a thin bedroll and not in a proper bed. And there were for sure more pleasant things than riding week after week through whatever weather that had decided to grace them with its company. And if Fíli never had to listen to Glóin snore again that would be a blessing.  
  
But despite that he didn’t regret anything. That damned Dragon could eat him and he would not regret it if that meant others had been spared, or that their home had been reclaimed. (And he would hope he gave the Dragon a bad case of heartburn, though perhaps Dragons always had that...)  
  
He knew Kíli felt much the same way even if Kíli would get eaten only over Fíli’s dead body (and _oh_ , perhaps that response was a family trait…) and in addition, Fíli rather thought that there was little Bilbo wouldn’t do to help them reclaim Erebor. What he had said as they’d been on the path towards Beorn’s house certainly seemed to point that way. As did all of his actions. 

Fíli stared thoughtfully down into his bowl with porridge. When he was a boy someone – probably Balin – had told him a story about how when you save someone’s life you are then responsible for everything that they do from that very moment on. It was quite possible that this was also true for relatives whose love life you got involved with, because after spending most of his breakfast looking at both Thorin and Bilbo being miserable Fíli really had the feelings that he ought to do something about it. The blond Dwarf sighed and nudged Bofur who was sitting next to him on the bench.

“If talk to Bilbo again,” Fíli said voiced lowered so only Bofur would hear him. “Do you think I will only make things worse?”  
  
“That would depend on what you’re planning to say,” Bofur murmured and the corner of his mouth quirked. “If you lead by explaining that Thorin was probably dropped on his head as a child…”  
  
“Such slander against your king,” Fíli teased. “Though I’ll admit that there is a reason why uncle usually lets Balin handle more delicate diplomatic issues. But I somehow think that would not help matters here.”  
  
“Probably not,” Bofur agreed. “And don’t suggest it either, or there is sure to be another contract to sign for our poor burglar.”  
  
-  
  
“I didn’t yell at him,” Bilbo said defensively when Fíli corned him in the kitchens.  
  
After breakfast Bilbo had managed to slip away before Fíli could get to him. When he wanted to Bilbo really could move fast and without being seen or heard. One minute he’d been seated at the table and the next there had been a Hobbit-shaped empty spot.  
  
Luckily, Fíli’s plan of hanging around the areas where food was available worked (even though it really shouldn’t  have considering that they’d just had breakfast, but well, Hobbits…)  
  
The dogs were all busy preparing the food that the company would take with them when they left the next morning, but a few stopped to glance their way when Bilbo spoke. A couple of the puppies made attempts to get over to the Hobbit (nice-person-who-smells-like-honey-yay!) and the Dwarf (BALL-THROWER! BALL!) but their mother quickly put a stop to that. It was best to not get involved when two-legs were acting strange after all.  
  
“Good for you, but what did he tell you?” Fíli asked with a sigh (and a great deal of trepidation).  
  
“I really don’t see how that is your business, Fíli,” Bilbo said. “I’m starting to get very tired of everyone getting involved in matters that do not concern them in the slightest.”  
  
“Thorin is my uncle, and you are my friend,” Fíli replied and put his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “Of course I care if you are not happy.”  
  
“That is all very well,” Bilbo said, shrugging off Fíli’s hand. “But there is a difference between that and telling people what to do.”  
  
“I shouldn’t have told you not to yell at him?” Fíli didn’t think that this should count as particularly upsetting, but then again, Hobbits.  
  
“What I’m saying is that I have a good reason to be upset with your uncle, and I will continue to be upset with him for however long as I please.”  
  
“So he told you that you couldn’t go into Erebor,” Fíli stated. Why couldn’t Thorin ever-  
  
“He told me that perhaps it was ‘ _best’_ if I stayed _here!_ ” Appearing to be a little embarrassed over his outburst, Bilbo crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “Apparently it could be _dangerous_ to go into Mirkwood. Did you know that? How strange, isn’t it? It’s not like any other part of this journey have been dangerous. Why, getting chased by Orcs? That is just your average Sunday outing. Enjoyable for the entire family.”  
  
This was not good at all.  
  
“He told you that you shouldn’t come with us through Mirkwood,” Fíli said slowly, hoping that it would sound better the second time around. It didn’t. This _really_ wasn’t good.  
  
“I hoped-“ Bilbo looked away. “Never mind.”  
  
Correction, this was _bad_. Bilbo didn’t just looked annoyed, or upset. Now he looked hurt. But why would he look hurt over Thorin not wanting him to _get_ hurt? Unless…  
  
“You understand that it’s not that Thorin doesn’t _want_ you there. He just doesn’t-“  
  
“Want me there,” Bilbo filled in. “I thought he’d understood that I’m not helpless. What he said on the Carrock. I thought… But obviously not. And don’t tell me that he just doesn’t want me to get hurt. He doesn’t want you or Fíli or anyone else in the Company to get hurt either, but strangely, I’m the only one he has asked not to continue. He obviously doesn’t think I’m-” Bilbo trailed off, and he cleared his throat before continuing to speak. “He thinks I’m still a liability. A burden.”  
  
Fíli closed his mouth. How in Mahal’s name could Thorin not manage to last even a day before managing to screw everything up. And how was Fíli supposed to fix this?  
  
“Please, come with me,” the blond Dwarf said and grabbed Bilbo’s arm.  
  
“I don’t want to even see Thorin right now,” Bilbo warned. “Or I might end up yelling at him after all.”  
  
“Oh, we’re not going to see Thorin,” Fíli said. “We are going to find Bofur.”  
  
-  
  
“I take it you didn’t follow my suggestion,” Bofur said when Fíli and Bilbo found him outside, lying beneath a couple of lilac bushes. He raised himself up on his elbows and looked concernedly at Bilbo. “I haven’t known Thorin for all that long, but I do think what he says and what he actually means sometimes get mixed up. Might be a family trait actually.”  
  
“Hey,” Fíli protested.  
  
“Oh, it must have been someone else who marched right up and declared that they wouldn’t be _opposed_ to tupping me,” Bofur said drily. He turned to Bilbo again. “Though all is not lost, it _is_ possible to get them to see the error of their ways.”  
  
“Did you wake up this morning in a mood to insult the entire royal family?” Fíli asked as he sat down next to Bofur. “Please sit with us,” he added and looked up at Bilbo. “Since you are not a Durin I think you might survive unscathed. Though if you see Kíli make sure to warn him to stay away.”  
  
Bofur just grinned and wiggled forward a bit so he could sit up straight without sticking his head into the bush above. “I’ve heard it from your own mouth,” he said and slung his arm over Fíli’s shoulder. “And you called yourself the smart one in the family. Doesn’t bode well for the rest of the lot, does it?”  
  
“He is very funny, isn’t he,” Fíli said wryly to Bilbo who had sat down with a sigh. “I’m the luckiest Dwarf in the world.” That bit _did_ come out a little more honestly than Fíli had intended. But it was worth it for the look in Bofur’s eyes.  
  
“So,” Bofur said after a second of staring at Fíli in what the Dwarf would have described in an entirely soppy manner (not that he minded) “What did our king say this time?”  
  
When Bilbo did not volunteer any information Fíli turned to him and raised an eyebrow. The Hobbit shrugged and Fíli reached over to clasp his shoulder briefly. Turning back to Bofur he summed up what Bilbo had just told him.  
  
“Right,” Bofur said and pulled on his moustache. “So, did you know Thorin was dropped on the head as a kid?”  
  
Fíli rolled his eyes and elbowed Bofur. “That’s not true,” he told Bilbo. “At least, not to my knowledge. Though he has taken more than a few hard knocks over the years. I can go that far.”  
  
Bilbo was smiling the slightest bit and Fíli grinned back at their burglar. This was going to work out just fine, he knew it. Bofur always knew what to-  
  
“You know when Thorin went to face Azog,” Bofur said thoughtfully. “The way that made you feel, watching him alone against the creature that had killed his grandfather.”  
  
Bilbo’s smile vanished faster than a raspberry pie and Fíli groaned. How was upsetting Bilbo more a _good_ plan?  
  
“The way that felt, I think that is how it makes Thorin feel every time he thinks about you getting hurt. And it’s not because he thinks that you can’t take care of yourself.”  
  
“How do you know that?” Bilbo asked.  
  
Bofur shrugged one shoulder, the one not connected to an arm that was wrapped around Fíli. “Because that’s how I feel every single time Fíli gets hurt, or even when he just could have gotten hurt.” The arm around him tightened. “I was still stuck in that damned tree when Fíli, Kíli and Dwalin ran to help you. I didn’t even see Bombur, and Bifur was just barely hanging on. It was-“ Bofur was silent for a few seconds. “You want to do anything to never have to see it again. I’m not saying that I agree with Thorin, because that’s not how it works. I can’t tell Fíli what he should do, I can only hope that when he does the things he has to do, I can be there with him, and that in the end it’ll be all right.”

“Has Thorin told you that he loves you?” Fíli asked in the ensuing silence. “Because he does, he really does. Do you know how many times I’ve seen Thorin with a lover?” Fíli winced. “Ah, I don’t mean actually _seen_.”  
  
Bilbo looked uncomfortable. “I don’t think I need to know-“  
  
“Once,” Fíli interrupted. “And that is not because Thorin is discreet.”  
  
“A Durin, discreet? Banish the thought,” Bofur murmured, then winced. “My dear old mum really wouldn’t approve of me badmouthing royalty. Then again,” he added thoughtfully. “She never met any.”  
  
“Hush you,” Fíli said and nudged him. “What I mean is that this is not something Thorin is used to. When Thorin loves someone, all he wants to do is to make sure they’re safe.”  
  
“But you and Kíli are both on the quest,” Bilbo said and looked sceptical.  
  
“And it took us an Age to convince him that that was a good idea,” Fíli replied. “Or well, that it at least wasn’t the worst idea ever imagined. Though after managing to convince Mother, Thorin was comparatively easy.”

At Bofur’s quirked eyebrow Fíli shrugged. “Thorin would never have allowed us to go if Mother was against it. As his sister she doesn’t care that he is king, and as our mother she doesn’t care that we’re not in our twenties anymore. She still would have smacked him hard enough to be heard to Erebor if he’d taken us with him without checking with her first.”

“I think I like her already,” Bofur murmured.

“So, I’m just supposed to accept that Thorin-“ Bilbo began and Fíli shook his head.  
  
“Of course not, weren’t you listening?”  
  
Bilbo glared at him and Fíli grimaced. “Sorry, I’m saying that if you could find it in your heart to take a deep breath the next time he says something offensive it might actually help if you then use it to point out that it was just that. Like I said before I really don’t think he does that on purpose.”

“Want me to talk to him?” Bofur offered. “I’m good at telling people when they’re being offensive. I Not that Bombur ever listens to me.”  
  
“No, that’s all right,” Bilbo said slowly. “I- thank you. Both of you.”  Bilbo lifted his chin. “I think I’ll go see if I can find him myself.”

“Deep breaths,” Fíli smiled. “And good luck.”  
  
They watched as Bilbo got to his feet and trotted off, when he was out of sight Fíli turned his head and gave Bofur a kiss. “Thank you,” he said and brushed his fingers down Bofur’s cheek, curling them into his moustache. “You always know the perfect thing to say.”  
  
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Bofur smiled. “For a Durin that is.”  
  
Fíli snorted and pulled a bit harder at Bofur’s whiskers. “Such cheek against the heir to the throne.”  
  
“Is the heir to the throne going to punish me for it?” Bofur said and his eyes darkened a little. Fíli moved so he was pressed up against Bofur’s side and he was just going to speak when-  
  
“Not here unless the heir to the throne wants to get a bucket of water on his head,” Dori said as he went past. “Really, didn’t you get private rooms? If it’s not your brother and Dwalin it’s you and Bofur.”  
  
“The other bushes were a lot better,” Fíli said and poked at the pink lilac blossoms and the flimsy leaves. “More privacy. At least when you were actually inside the bushes.”  
  
“I actually went there first, but they were occupied by a couple of rabbits. And I do mean a couple.” Bofur smirked. “I guess we were not the first to think about it.”  
  
“Think they’re done by now?”  
  
“Couldn’t hurt to check,” Bofur said and together they scrambled to their feet and went to investigate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50 chapters!
> 
> If Nori was here he would totally start a bet on how long this is going to get. I would likely lose so badly since I honestly thought this would have ended after the first 10k words.


	51. Interlude - Bah! (But No Humbug)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli fails to comprehend how time works, sheep continue to be a plague to Dwarfs, and Thorin doesn't get much help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've said, never give up on this story, new chapters will keep on coming even if they are more spaced out than I want them to be at times.  
> Thanks for sticking with it!

“C’mon. Harder." Kíli groaned as he squirmed backwards. "I won't break, harder and if you could- a bit more up. Yes. Oh, _there_."

Dwalin hands found the perfect spot and Kíli let out a soft moan. "Harder," he demanded again.

"You're giving a Dwarf all sorts of ideas," Dwalin rumbled and Kíli snorted.

"Save those for a week when I've not seen my uncle and Bilbo do unspeakable things to each other." He stretched languidly, arching into Dwalin’s big, strong hands. "Just keep rubbing my back."

"Where’re your manners, lad?" Dwalin scoffed, though Kíli could hear the smile that was sure to be lurking in the corner of his mouth.

"Keep scratching my back, _mister_ Dwalin."  
  
“Is it next week already?” Dwalin asked and his hands wandered downwards until the palms rested on Kíli’s arse. “It must be, because someone needs a-“  
  
“Bah!”  
  
Kíli and Dwalin both turned their heads to stare at the sheep staring back at them. It looked judgemental, or maybe that was just how it always looked.  
  
Kíli didn’t dislike sheep the same way Fíli apparently did, but he still thought that something about how they looked at you was disturbing, or maybe that was just their eyes. (He was fairly sure eyes weren’t really supposed to look like that. Not unless someone had given you one too many hard knock on the head and managed to somehow squish the black bit.)  
  
“Go away,” Dwalin suggested kindly, between clenched teeth, and ‘kindly’ might not have been the right word to use…  
  
“Bah,” the sheep argued and Kíli sighed.  
  
“Dwalin, move your hands. Having an audience is not something I enjoy.”  
  
“So there was going to be something for an audience to observe?” Dwalin asked, a bit smugly if you asked Kíli (and as brother to Fíli he was somewhat of an expert when it came to smugness).

“Bah,” said the sheep.  
  
When Dwalin released him Kíli turned to lie on his back and smiled up at Dwalin. (The sheep felt a bit miffed at being ignored.)

Kneeling by his side Dwalin loomed over him like a great, bearded thundercloud. On Kíli’s other side stood the sheep, also fairly cloudlike, just with less thunder and more white and fluffy. Still, there was no question of which of the two Kíli preferred.  
  
Reaching up a hand he curled it into Dwalin’s beard and pulled at it teasingly. When Dwalin leaned closer the young Dwarf wrapped both arms around his shoulder and pulled. To his relief his plan didn’t fail; as Dwalin fell forward Kíli managed to roll them so that he ended up straddling Dwalin’s middle. (And no one’s knee ended up in an unfortunate place, huzzah!)  
   
Smiling down at Dwalin from his new position straddling the other Dwarf’s middle Kíli placed his hands back in the dark beard.  
  
“Hmm,” he said consideringly. “I _do_ think that is actually a belt buckle that I’m sitting on. It must still be this week. ”  
  
“What happened about ‘not with an audience’,” Dwalin said drily. “And it’s always this week,” he added, hands coming up to hold Kíli’s hips still. “I’ve never managed to find myself in the next week, or the week before.”  
  
“Huh?” Kíli said succinctly; he was a bit distracted. Dwalin’s hands were _really_ big. Of course he already knew this, and he also knew that Dwalin was very strong. These two facts had started to conspire against his firm belief that it wasn’t yet the following week because would Dwalin be strong enough to-  
   
“Bah!” the sheep said and shook its head before trotting off.

“Never mind,” Dwalin said and rubbed his thumbs in a _most_ interesting way over Kíli’s hips. “What do you say we-“

“DWALIN!”  
  
“That’s not who I was thinking should scream my name,” Dwalin muttered and Kíli had to supress a snort at his lover’s gloomy expression.  
  
“Well, it’s still not next week,” he said and patted Dwalin’s chest. “Though I do think we’ve gotten a bit closer.”

-  
  
“Dwalin!” Thorin yelled again and Dwalin briefly tightened his hands on Kíli’s hips before letting go completely. He was a bit cheered when Kíli leaned down for a quick kiss before getting off him, but only a bit. (To be entirely honest, he would have preferred if Kíli had gotten off on him… But oh well.)  
  
Was it wrong of Dwalin to wish that his best friend and king would accidentally fall into an oversized rabbit hole and not show himself for a couple of hours, at the very least?  
  
Probably.  
  
Did it stop him from wishing it?  
  
Not as such.  
  
Did he think he could have talked Kíli into agreeing that it was the next week if he’d gotten some more time?  
  
Definitely, and that was the crux of the matter and the reason behind his wish for rabbit holes.

Heaving a deep sigh Dwalin took Kíli’s outstretched hand and hauled himself upright and when Thorin rounded the crops of trees (the trees were birches, but it was not like Dwalin _cared_ when ‘tree’ was such a good, _descriptive_ word to use) they two of them were no longer in a compromising position. (Again, Dwalin didn’t really care one way or another, but if Kíli objected to having sheep watching them, Dwalin imagined uncles would be worse.)  
  
Kíli now stood pressed to Dwalin’s side, and Dwalin slung his arm over his shoulder, enjoying the way the younger Dwarf pressed _closer_ \- instead of inching away - as Thorin approached.  
  
Not wanting to be caught shagging was one thing, but the possessive part of Dwalin (which wasn’t an _insignificant_ part of him) was thrilled by Kíli’s closeness as it proved that he wasn’t ashamed of being with a scarred old warrior with grey in his beard. Kíli was much too good for someone like him (another part of Dwalin; this one _fairly_ small, still couldn’t believe that Kíli loved him and that Thorin – both as Kíli's uncle and as their King – hadn’t said anything to put a stop to the young prince's madness.)

“You oversized burr,” Dwalin murmured fondly into Kíli’s ear, lips quirking at the bright grin he received in response.  
  
“I do like your beard,” Kíli said and pulled at it. “And I remember the time you actually got a burr stuck in it. It was hilarious. Mother had to cut it and it was lopsided for almost a year.”  
  
“No risk of that for you,” Dwalin teased and cupped Kíli’s scruffy cheek. An expression flashed across Kíli’s face almost too quick for Dwalin to see it, but what he saw made him frown.

“Dwalin, I need your council,” Thorin demanded as he walked up to them. “Kíli, yours as well seeing as you-.”  
  
“If this is about the Halfling you will give us a moment,” Dwalin said, not looking away from Kíli. “Or just go say you’re sorry about whatever it is that you said. That’s my first piece of advice."  
  
“I asked that he would remain here with Gandalf’s friend instead of continuing to Erebor.”  
  
Dwalin winced, but still did not drop his gaze from Kíli’s brown eyes; which were now starting to look a bit apprehensive.  
  
“A moment then,” Dwalin agreed and out of the corner of his eyes he saw Thorin nod (with a most un-regal expression of mulish stubbornness on his face).

“Kíli,” he said seriously. “You could be as bald as an egg, or as my own head, and even if you didn’t have a single hair left anywhere on your body I would still want to do things to you that would make Thorin want to gouge his eyes out. You are the most-”  
  
“On second thought,” Thorin said. “I think I will go and find Balin.”


	52. Interlude - Is It The Language Barrier Or The Stupidity Barrier?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see some A+ communication skills (or not). But the author wants to assure everyone that the chapter ends happily.

“So what is the plan?”  
  
Arms crossed defensively (not that he would admit to it) over his chest, Thorin looked warily at his nephew and Dwalin. Dwalin had the nerve to nod at him encouragingly and Thorin glared at his old friend.

“Do not tell Bilbo what to do,” Thorin answered sullenly (though he wouldn’t admit to the sullen part either).  
  
“An excellent plan!” Kíli grinned, as if he hadn’t spent the last half-hour convincing Thorin that it indeed was the best method of dealing with their Hobbit.  
  
Kíli had refused to let Thorin go off and find Balin, claiming that Balin wouldn’t know a thing about making amends to a Hobbit.  
  
When Thorin had protested this; because first of all, why did _he_ have to be the one to apologize just because he didn’t want Bilbo to _die_ , and secondly, what did _anyone_ know about apologizing to Hobbits in the first place, Kíli had just scoffed and smirked at him. He looked entirely too much like his mother when he did so.  
  
The answer to the second question was that apparently Kíli knew _everything_ worth knowing, at least if Thorin took his nephew’s word for it. (He didn’t. But at least Dwalin was also around, and he was a Dwarf whom Thorin trusted to have a level head.)  
  
The answer to the first question, as Kíli was kind enough to let him know, was that Thorin apologizing made more sense than asking Bilbo to apologize for Thorin telling him what to do.

“Just don’t give him any more orders, tell him you are sorry, and things will be fine,” Kíli said and nodded.  
  
“And what if he still wants to put himself in a situation where a Dragon may eat him?” Thorin said between clenched teeth. “Pray tell, what then?”  
  
Dwalin snorted and jabbed a thumb in Kíli’s direction.  
  
“It’s not like I’m jumping for joy about having that one risk his life either- Hear me out,” he added, turning to Kíli who was about to protest. “Still, I’m not about to lock him up somewhere where the walls are padded just because of that. Just as he’s not going to be doing the same to me.”  
  
Thorin grunted. He hadn’t planned on locking Bilbo inside Beorn’s house. Really. Not even before he noticed that none of the doors had locked. _Really_.  
  
“You are both warriors, our burglar is not.”  
  
“Could’ve fooled me when he killed that Orc for you,” Dwalin said and raised a bushy eyebrow. “Just make him wear that ring of his whenever possible and give him some more lessons on how to use his letter opener.”  
  
“Just don’t phrase any of that as an order,” Kíli interjected. “But I agree. And imagine how it would feel to leave him here. You wouldn’t know how he fared, if something happened. Better to have him with us where you can keep an eye on him. Mind you, when it comes to a closer inspection of his health, make sure I’m not _anywhere_ near.”  
  
“What could possibly happen to him here?” Thorin asked. “Buried alive beneath rabbit kits and puppies?”  
  
Kíli and Dwalin exchanged a look.  
  
“Fine,” his sister-son admitted. “I’m sure he’d be _perfectly_ safe here. And probably bored out of his mind within a day. But he seems to like his host well-enough and Master Beorn certainly seems to like the company of our burglar; what with all the grabbing and patting he does. I’m certain he’ll make _every_ effort to ease Bilbo’s loneliness.”  
  
Thorin knew very well what Kíli was trying to do, but that knowledge unfortunately did _not_ mean that it didn’t work. The very thought of that Man putting his hands on Bilbo still made Thorin’s blood boil. Their host was indeed already taking too many liberties as it were.  
  
“Or maybe Bilbo will just try and come after us on his own, or he might try and go back to the Shire,” Kíli continued apparently untroubled by the furious look his uncle was sending him. “Yes, probably back to the Shire. But don’t worry, uncle. I’m sure Master Beorn would not let him go off on his own. He could probably carry Bilbo all the wa-”  
  
“That will be quite enough, Kíli,” Thorin growled. “Thank you both for the advice.”

“Thorin,” Dwalin said just as Thorin turned to go. “We already know he is willing to die for you, you can’t expect to change that.”  
  
“That’s _not_ helpful,” Kíli hissed. Ignoring him Dwalin continued:  
  
“What you need to do is to make sure he is willing to _live_ for you. That’s how you stop him from taking stupid risks.” Thorin did not miss the side-long glance in Kíli’s direction, and unfortunately for Dwalin, neither did Kíli.  
  
“Are you implying that _I_ would take stupid risks?” Kíli asked, elbowing Dwalin as the taller Dwarf put his arm around him.

“Should we discuss the ill-advised decision to not wait for the rest of us before taking on three trolls?” Dwalin said. “Or why not the time when-“  
  
“Maybe we should talk about the time when you came to Ered Luin with your arm just barely still attached,” Kíli interrupted and poked at Dwalin’s left arm right over the place where Thorin knew the fabric hid a large jagged scar. “It took mother an _hour_ to sew it up and when she was done I’d seen milk with more colour-.”  
  
Neither of them noticed when Thorin slipped away.  
  
-  
  
While Thorin was a Dwarf he wasn’t what Bilbo would consider to be small (and compared to Bilbo he definitely wasn’t), so how in the world could he just have disappeared?  
  
Reflexively Bilbo’s hand came up to touch the ring he’d put back into his pocket. Still there, so _that_ wasn’t why Thorin wasn’t to be seen. Not that Bilbo really could imagine Thorin sneaking around like that; or stealing the ring in the first place, it was hardly a very kingly thing to do. (Unlike ordering people about, something Thorin was all too comfortable with…)  
  
Taken a deep breath - as he’d promised, Bilbo continued to look for his missing Dwarf. Because Thorin was still his, stupid ideas and all. Bilbo wouldn’t be a Baggins if he gave up at the first hint of stubbornness, nor would he be a Took if he backed away from questionable decisions. (Nor would he be on the quest for that matter.)  
  
He would just have to explain the idea that he was to remain here was really a bad one, and probably take several deep breaths as he did so.  
  
And then in the morning they would go off into Mirkwood; a place that made even their host seem apprehensive, and if they managed to get through it, they would try and kill a Dragon. _Right_.  
Why _didn’t_ he want to stay with Beorn again?  
  
Because he was a poor excuse for a Hobbit that was why. _Bilbo_ , that was.

Though if anyone was a poor excuse for a Hobbit on general principle, then it was Beorn. (Not particularly strange though considering that he wasn’t a Hobbit to begin with.)  
  
Bungo had made enough of a scandal when he had fallen in love with Belladonna Took and married her, but Bilbo rather figured that falling in love with a Dwarven king rather meant that he had his father beat even without taking the whole matter of going off on an adventure into account.  
  
So yes, he was not at all a proper Hobbit, and his neighbours was probably still gossiping on what exactly he was up to, (not to mention what Lobelia was telling everyone) but it didn’t matter because he wouldn’t trade this for anything. (Unless _anything_ meant that they had already reclaimed Erebor, killed Smaug, and that no one had gotten hurt. But that was rather given, wasn’t it.)  
  
He had blasted well proved that he belonged in the company. He had distracted Trolls, fought with Goblins, Orcs and Wargs, and he would tell Thorin as much and then demand- no, he would _state_ that he was coming with them for the remainder of the quest. And if Thorin would protest it, Bilbo would just calmly take a deep breath and tell him again and again until it _finally_ sunk into that thick Dwarven skull. And then he would tell him once more to be sure. That was the plan.  
  
If only he could find the confounded Dwarf anywhere.  
  
-  
  
Needing time to think Thorin hadn’t sought Bilbo out immediately after talking to Dwalin and Kíli. Instead he had gone to make sure their supplies would be ready for when they left on the morrow, and he left word with Balin that everyone would prepare themselves for travelling again. He very carefully did _not_ say ‘everyone except Bilbo’.  
  
Did he have the right to try and make decisions for him? On the surface that was what it came down to. But then things got complicated, because however much he didn’t want to offend his Hobbit, he also did not wish to see him die. He would even prefer that Bilbo hated him; but remained alive to do so, if the other option was that he had perished.  
  
He _couldn’t_ lose Bilbo. _But,_ he would lose Bilbo still, if his Hobbit hated him. Kíli was right so far as in saying that Bilbo would not content himself simply by remaining with Beorn and waiting to be summoned to a reclaimed Erebor. Bilbo would hate him, and he would go back to the Shire, (or try to continue to Erebor on his own driven by some notion that he had promised to help them), and judging by their journey so far there was no guarantee that he would make it to either destination safely.

Sending him with Gandalf was not an option either, as the Wizard was not heading for any safer ends than the rest of the company was.  
  
It seemed like the only option was for Bilbo to join them on their continued quest towards Erebor, while at the same time making sure that he was not in a position to get hurt. Well, that or actually finding some way of locking him up, but Beorn would probably let him out as soon as they had left anyway...

Thorin was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn’t hear the voice calling for him.  
  
“Thorin, Thorin! Will you wait!”  
  
Realising that it was Bilbo, Thorin stopped abruptly and turned around to face his burglar.  
  
“Finally,” Bilbo huffed as he caught up with him. “I thought I would have to go and borrow Óin’s hearing trumpet to lend you - I _think_ he has repaired it at least, otherwise it wouldn’t do much good.”  
  
“Bilbo,” Thorin said and crossed his arms to avoid reaching out for him; as they had parted on bad terms that would probably not be welcome.  
  
“Thorin,” Bilbo said and mirrored his stance. Though there was a small smile playing around the edges of his mouth that gave Thorin hope that he had somehow been forgiven after all. The feeling of relief was soon to vanish though, when Bilbo began to speak.  
  
“Do you realise that it’s entirely unnatural for a Hobbit to go on adventures and fight Orcs and Goblins but that I have done so anyway? Any of my neighbours would tell me that we are made for places such as _this_ ,” he waved his hand in the direction of Beorn’s house. “And that we are distinctly not made for months and months of never sleeping in the same place for more than one night.”  
  
Thorin didn’t know what to say. It sounded like Bilbo had realised that he would do best to stay with Beorn after all, which was what Thorin wanted in the first place, so why did he have a sinking feeling in his chest?  
  
“I-“  
  
“And it’s not like I _want_ to get eaten or lacerated or incinerated or any of the things that the blasted contract mentioned.”  
  
Thorin had almost forgotten about the contract. Technically, Bilbo could not refuse to continue to Erebor without breaking the contract. Not that it matter because it wasn’t like Thorin would require compensation, after all he _wanted_ Bilbo to stay. Safe, that was. Even if that meant staying with their host and his much too forward hands. (And not with Thorin, whose touch Bilbo had welcomed just the other night.)  
  
“I’m not about to throw myself at an Orc just for the fun of it, because fun is probably the last word I would use to describe such an action, believe you me.”  
  
“I understand,” Thorin said gravely. And he did. “You are entirely correct.” He was glad that Bilbo had come to his senses. This urge to go and hit a rock with his fist; that urge would pass. It actually lessened a little right away when Bilbo beamed at him as if he’d done something extraordinary.  
  
Seeing Bilbo safe and happy that was all he really wanted. If they parted as friends, then perhaps this wasn’t even the last time he would be treated to such a sight. He could hardly ask that Bilbo would make the trip to Erebor by himself, especially not if he returned to the Shire, but perhaps in a few years it would be possible to leave Erebor, even if he had to go all the way back to the Shire to visit Bilbo. Or he could send a troop of guards to the Shire and - Thorin carefully did not think about what would happen after that.

“Oh, I thought this would be much harder,” his Hobbit said, putting his hand on Thorin’s arm. “I’m gl-“  
  
It could probably be counted as a little too forward to not let Bilbo finish his sentence and instead interrupt him mid-word with a kiss, but Thorin didn’t much care. And when Bilbo didn’t protest and instead just sighed into the kiss and answered it with equal fervour Thorin didn’t care at all.  
  
“Will you promise me to be safe,” Thorin demanded, forgetting that he was not supposed to give anything resembling orders to Bilbo. “Please,” he added, because he did remember the uses of that word.  
  
“Wasn’t that what I was just telling you,” Bilbo said, sounding exasperated. “The bit about not exactly enjoying almost being stabbed by Orcs. What I would like to know is if I can claim the same promise from you.”  
  
“You may ask anything of me,” Thorin said solemnly and pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s hand. He frowned when Bilbo shivered a little, because while they were standing in the shade beneath a tree it wasn’t even remotely cold. Was Bilbo getting sick after all?  
  
“I- that is good to know,” Bilbo said faintly, blinking a couple of times as if to clear his vision. “Then will you promise me to not to go after Azog, or any other similar monsters who have a personal interest in killing you – on your own again? I thought my heart would stop when you did so before.”  
  
“I can’t promise that it will never happen,” Thorin said, thinking about the things he would be prepared to do avoid seeing his family, his companions, get killed – and something of those thoughts had to had shown on his face because instead of being angry with him Bilbo just looked sad. “I will however promise you to be more careful,” Thorin continued hastily. “It was not the wisest of decisions to face Azog as I did,” he admitted. “Even if I had succeeded in killing him, one of his pack would probably have stabbed me in the back the very next moment."  
  
Heaving a slightly shuddering sigh Bilbo rose up on his toes and pressed a kiss to Thorin’s whiskery cheek.  
  
“Thank you. I will take that promise, and I _will_ hold you to it.”

“Now,” Bilbo said with a smile as he stepped back. “When do we leave for Mirkwood tomorrow?”  
  
Thorin had the _distinct_ impression that he was missing something.  
  
“ _We?_ I- you,” was all he said before he clamped his mouth shut. (It was an impressive collections of pronouns to be sure, but not very coherent.)  
  
Could Bilbo have changed his mind again? Did he want to come with them? If so, then he would likely not take kindly to Thorin questioning his decision.  
  
“I thought that we might leave shortly after dawn,” he said cautiously, searching Bilbo’s eyes for clues on how to proceed.

“I expected as much,” Bilbo said with a slightly glum expression. “I’ll have to remember to say good-bye to the pups tonight then.”  
  
It certainly didn’t seem as if Bilbo intended to stay…

“Hmmph?” was what Bilbo said when Thorin wrapped his arms around the Hobbit and proceeded to kiss the breath right out of him.  
  
Strangely, the urge to go and punch a rock had entirely fled from Thorin's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't at all turn out the way I thought it would, but I think it turned out pretty good, so meh. Plans, who needs them (Fíli, Kíli, I'm looking at you. I think you might have a plan-addiction.)


	53. Place Your Bets - Take A Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The company finally heads for Mirkwood and Fíli finds a new couple to play matchmaker for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, not betaed. I felt I had to give you this warning again since I'm to hot to be bothered to re-read it again. Heatwaves are nicer when they don't actually happen.

The rest of the day was uneventful and the next morning it was time to depart for Mirkwood. It was with great sadness Fíli said goodbye to the only proper beds he had seen, and would see, for quite some time.  
   
Whatever beds not having rotted in Erebor would probably be filled with enough dust to bury Bombur in. And spiders. Unless they had already died, in which case; dead spiders. Fíli made a face. Dead spiders was perhaps even worse.

Kíli, riding to Fíli’s left, saw his brother’s frown.  
  
“Don’t tell me you already miss the sheep, brother,” he said playfully. “I saw the look you gave them as we left, very passionate indeed.”  
  
“You are incredible funny,” Fíli said drily. “You are the funniest out of all my brothers. Oh, wait. I just have got the one.”  
  
“I think Balin really misses the rabbits though,” Kíli said. “Maybe Thorin can lend him Bilbo when the need to have someone with pointy ears and hairy feet in his lap becomes too great.”  
  
“I’m not sure who would take more offence to that suggestion,” Fíli said and rubbed his temples with his left hand. “Perhaps it's me for that image of Bilbo sitting Balin's lap, but I think it might be Bilbo for your suggestion that he is lendable. Are you so eager to have him mad at you again?”  
  
“As if he’s aware that anything and anyone but Thorin exists in the world at the moment.”  
  
They both looked ahead to their uncle and their burglar. The pair was riding side by side, close enough that their ponies nudged each other every once in a while.  
  
“Are they actually holding hands now?” Fíli said, a bit surprised. Or a lot.  
  
“Well it’s not like they need any hands to hold the reins.” His brother wiggled his own empty hands in the air and Fíli’s pony gave a snort.  
  
“Try growing up with him,” Fíli muttered to it, and the creature snorted again and shook her head.  
  
Since Beorn’s friends knew where they were going better than the Dwarfs (and Hobbit) did themselves, riding was a bit of a different experience this time around. They had saddles, but that was all.  
  
Bilbo had worn a very sceptical expression for the first hour or so after they’d set out, hands gripping onto the mane of his pony hard enough to make his knuckles whiten. But once the Hobbit had realised that the pony did just fine without his instructions; and that his only concern was not falling off, things had gotten a little more relaxed. Even more so when Thorin adjusted Bilbo’s stance on top of the pony and gave him tips on how to better move with the horse.  
  
“Besides, it’s good that they have made up again,” Kíli mused. “Whatever Thorin told him yesterday must have worked pretty well.”

After Bilbo had come to see him the day before, Fíli hadn’t actually seen him, or Thorin, again until supper. By then it had been rather obvious that Bilbo no longer wanted to strange his uncle with Thorin’s own socks. There had in fact been so many soppy smiles – from Bilbo – that Fíli rather had expected the Hobbit’s face to get stuck that way. And throughout the evening it seemed as if at least one of Thorin’s hands was always touching Bilbo. Nothing untoward, but it was unusual for Thorin to be so free with his affections. At least Thorin hadn’t been grinning, because if he had Fíli would have had to start looking for whatever witch had wrought that particular spell. (He would have thanked her and then tried his best to dispose of her, because someone with that powerful magic just wasn't safe to have running around.)  
  
So yes, whatever Thorin had said had worked wonders. But that could easily just be a sign of Bilbo’s forgiving nature and not Thorin’s aptness when it came to apologies. (Fíli still hadn’t quite gotten over Thorin’s opening when it came to the ‘I’ve never been more wrong’ apology Bilbo had received on the Carrock.)

“And did you see Glóin throw the bag of coin to Nori earlier?” Kíli snickered. “Ori told me that this bet was regarding if they could go the entire morning without a new argument, and apparently Glóin did not think so. Nori is really making quite a bit of gold off our uncle.”

“I saw,” Fíli confirmed. “And I also heard them make a new bet, same terms, only the time limit had changed to before we make camp today.”  
  
“Glóin just needs to learn how to rig the game. It’s not like their usual state of being really is arguing with each other. No, they are much too busy making me want to blind myself.” Kíli scoffed. “However, one word about a certain dragon-“  
  
“Sshh,” Fíli hissed. “Weren’t you just saying that it was good that they were not arguing?”

Kíli held his hands up again. “I’m only saying that making bets with Nori isn’t a wise thing to do unless you know what you are doing. If Glóin’s going to keep betting all the way until those two are married then he’s going to lose a _lot_ of gold.”

“You think they will not want to get married?” Fíli asked, because he did not share that opinion.  
  
“How are they going to get married, brother?” Kíli asked with a touch of exasperation. “Thorin can’t really marry himself off, can he? He would have to wait until mother joined us, or maybe Dáin since he is the closer of the two.”  
  
True, and Fíli was a bit embarrassed at his oversight. The King’s wedding couldn’t be officiated by just anyone. Maybe they could send a raven to Dís once they got to Erebor and it was safe, because if Dáin got involved it was quite possible that Bilbo would end up running away. Not because Dáin was going to disapprove or anything like that; he respected Thorin too much to question his choice of consort, but the problem was that Dáin was a stickler for tradition and ceremonies. If Dáin got involved then the wedding would probably be at least three days long and involve all manner of things Bilbo would not be too fond of. But speaking about weddings...  
  
“I’m going to ride ahead and talk to Thorin,” he told his brother.  
  
“I think Thorin already knows that he can’t marry himself,” Kíli said. “I mean, to another person. By himself. Argh, you know what I mean.”  
  
“I just remembered I still hadn’t told him about Bofur’s and my wish that he’d marry us. To each other, in Erebor,” he clarified with a smirk just to tease Kíli.  
  
“It’ll be days before we’re even at the Mirkwood border,” Kíli shrugged. “I don’t see the hurry. But maybe it’s best, before you forget again. Old age does strange things to the mind sometimes.”  
  
“Who are you again?” Fíli asked his brother, before leaning forward to talk to his pony. “Can we move up ahead, to Thorin?”  
  
As the pony nodded and increased her pace Kíli called after them:  
  
“I’m the more charming and better looking brother! I don't see how you could have forgotten that when the truth is plain to read on my face.”  
  
-  
  
Finally telling Thorin had been fairly anticlimactic. Not that Fíli had expected any opposition, but it still seemed that something that had taken him several days to get out (albeit, that was just due to his bad memory and too many distractions) should merit more response than a “My congratulations.” And an “Of course, it would be my honour.”  
  
But all was well, and it was still a cheerful Fíli that asked his pony to take him to Bofur.  
  
Once you got over the unease from not being able to directly control where you was going it was quite pleasant this way of travelling; on something ( _someone_ , rather) who knew where they were going and would make sure you got there. These ponies all seemed to be the best of friends and not nearly as skittish as the one they’d ridden before the Orcs came. Hopefully those poor things had gotten away safely. Maybe another Elf patrol had spotted them and taken them in. Even living with Elves was better than being eaten. (Especially when – as a pony - you didn’t mind only getting green things for dinner.)  
  
There was a bit of an extra bounce in his pony’s gait as they moved towards Bofur. She was almost strutting, as if showing off. When Bofur’s pony turned its (Fíli didn’t know if it was male or female) head to give them a glance and then shyly looked away the reason behind the strutting became clear.  
  
“You like them,” Fíli murmured into his pony’s ear and the pony whinnied softly. “I wonder what ponies do for courting. Do you perhaps tell each other pony-poetry? About green grass and apples and a lack of annoying flies?”  
  
The pony snorted. “I’ll take that as a no,” Fíli said and combed his fingers through the rough strands of hair at the back of her neck. “I hope you’ve told them how you feel. Him,” Fíli corrected himself as he got close enough to tell the difference. His pony shook her head and turned her head to look a bit anxiously at Fíli. (Or it could just be that anxious was rather the default state for horses and ponies.) “Trust me,” Fíli said and smiled at her. “If it’s something I’ve learnt from this quest – apart from more about my uncle’s love life than I ever wanted to know – it’s that when you love someone you better tell them right away, because you never know when you are about to get chased by Orcs and Goblins.”

 The pony didn’t reply, but that could just be because they had gotten close enough to Bofur and his pony to be overheard.  
  
“Hullo,” Bofur smiled warmly at them both and his pony whickered softly. “I heard Kíli shouting before. I didn’t actually realise that I was _not_ courting the charming and handsome brother. Is it too late to change my mind?”  
  
“I’m afraid it is indeed too late,” Fíli said and arranged his face in a sad expression. “I just asked Thorin to marry us when we get to Erebor. You don’t want to disappoint your king I hope.”  
  
Bofur and his pony snorted at the same time.  
  
“No we can’t have that, can we,” he said. “Though if you’d asked me at the start of the quest I’d said that he’d be more disappointed in me marrying you instead of the alternative.”  
  
Ah, it seemed that they were not quite done with this topic after all. Making a mental note to again reassure Bofur about how kings who fell in love with Hobbits had to right to throw stones, and also how there would never have been any stones in the first place anyway, Fíli instead concentrated on the interesting little bit of new information Bofur had just divulged.  
  
“You thought about marrying me right from the start?”  
  
“I, well.” Bofur’s hand came up to pull at his hat. “I tried not to?”  
  
“Is that a question?” Fíli asked amused. “If it is I’m afraid I’ve not yet mastered the ability to read minds.”  
  
“I couldn’t help but notice you,” Bofur said almost apologetically. “You are incredibly lovely. But you were – _are_ – also a prince and-“  
  
This time both ponies snorted, and then looked at each other in mutual exasperation which quickly turned to soppy staring.  
  
“I agree with them,” Fíli said and Bofur shrugged.  
  
“I know we’ve said that it doesn’t matter, but habits are hard to break. And don’t compare this to Bilbo and Thorin either. For all that Bilbo is not a Dwarf; he _is_ the grandson of the Hobbit equivalent of a king. Something they call Thain I believe it was.”  
  
This was news to Fíli. “Huh,” was all he could think to say. That would pretty much make Bilbo a prince, wouldn't it.  
  
“And Dwalin might have taken work as a warrior, but he is also a Lord of Durin’s line,” Bofur continued. “Not that being a warrior is in any way a problem, but well, you get my meaning."  
  
Bofur looked away. “Even if no one will speak against it, what good am I going to be once you are king. I’m a miner and toymaker, not a lord.”  
  
“Can we get closer?” Fíli asked his pony who eagerly pressed her side up against Bofur’s mount. (If ponies could have blushed Fíli was sure that there would have been _at least_ one red pony trotting along the path.)  
  
“Bofur,” Fíli said and reached out a hand – which Bofur took. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but who do I go to when I require advice?”  
  
“Balin?” Bofur guessed.  
  
“Well, the first letter is correct. It’s you.” Fíli squeezed his hand. “There’s no one’s opinion I trust more than I trust yours. And as someone who might become king that is amongst the best things I could ever have hoped for in the one I would marry. That you are also kind, funny, charming and incredibly handsome… I guess I just have to live with that.”  
  
While ponies could not blush, Dwarfs definitely could. Bringing Fili’s hand up to press a kiss to the knuckles a pink Bofur then shook his head.  
  
“Daft,” he muttered. “Completely daft.”  
  
“As I’ve said, I’ve told Thorin,” Fíli grinned. “You’ll just have to marry me anyway and hope that I’ll maybe grow out of it eventually.”  
  
Bofur smiled fondly at him. “I guess I’ll just have to take my chances.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, I skipped the afternoon and evening bits of the day previous to the one in this chapter. I promise, nothing happened except for all the couples being couple-y, and the rest of the company hanging out with Beorn and the animals. In other words, nothing you've not read a bazillion times already. ;)
> 
> But now we are finally getting close to some action again! Mirkwood awaits!


	54. A Great Hat Speaks For Itself.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Bofur elopes. And it's all Bombur's fault.

As they made camp that evening Fíli felt remarkably happy for someone who was getting closer and closer to possibly being eaten by a dragon. But it was hard not to be happy when he saw his brother and uncle being happy; Kíli sat cuddled close to Dwalin’s side and Thorin was teaching Bilbo how to properly use his little knife. (“It’s a sword. _Sword_.”) Though unlike the previous training session both Bilbo and Thorin seemed to be enjoying this attempt a lot more. (Though not _too_ much, because then Fíli would have had to ask them to stop, or at least relocate about a hundred miles to some other direction.)  
  
The rest of the company was also in a cheerful mood, except maybe for Balin, but Fíli figured it was just the rabbit withdrawal.  
  
Though maybe above everything else, the reason for Fíli’s content state was Bofur. (And there wasn’t really any ‘maybe’ about it.) The other Dwarf was sitting behind Fíli and had practically wrapped himself completely around the blond Dwarf; giving Fíli no other option than leaning back against Bofur’s chest and sighing happily. The horror.  
  
“Don’t you sound pleased,” Bofur chuckled into his ear. “Is it tonight’s entertainment by any chance? I have my money on Thorin.”  
  
“Don’t tell me you’ve actually bet on sword practice,” Fíli said and turned his head to look at Bofur.  
  
“Of course not,” Bofur denied. “You can’t really call that little thing Bilbo’s got for a sword, can you.”  
  
“Are we sure Bilbo has such a small thing?” Bombur chirped from the side. “He has pretty big feet, and you know what they say about big feet.”  
  
Fíli and Bofur both stared blankly at Bombur for a second before the meaning of the rotund Dwarf’s words dawned on them.  
  
“Bombur, no!” Fíli protested. He could not think about Bilbo being naked because that way to such bad thoughts as Thorin being naked, and just no.  
  
“Ah, yes, I had forgotten that we all got a free show at the hot springs, not so little after all. Not as big as the feet would lead you to believe, but then again, his feet are also remarkably hairy, and I didn’t see-”  
  
“Tell your brother to stop,” Fíli pleaded with Bofur. “I will do anything.”  
  
“While that is a lovely offer,” Bofur said. “I’m afraid I’m helpless.”  
  
“It’s like all his hair has just fallen down to gather at the feet. Well, not _all_ of it. Which is good for Thorin I guess, because while a smooth face might be something you could get used to, a smooth-“  
  
“When I said anything, I meant _anything_.” Fíli desperately clutched at Bofur’s hands which had settled on his stomach as a large comforting warmth.  
  
But it was not Bofur who came to Fíli’s aid and stopped him from having to stuff his ears with grass. One of the ponies suddenly meandered up to them and slouched down practically on top of Bombur.  
  
“Whoa there,” Bombur said as he was almost squished by about 400 pounds of pony. “As I don’t even know your name, I’m not sure we know each other well enough for you to sit on me.”  
  
“I- did he really say that?” Fíli asked. “About a pony? And did he wink?”  
  
“I’m afraid he did,” Bofur said and shook his head. “Remember this the next time you complain about growing up with Kíli.”  
  
The pony snorted and Fíli realised that she was no other than his pony, in as much as any of the ponies could be said to belong to anyone of course. Catching Fíli’s eye she made a ‘go on, get out of here’ motion with her head.  
  
“Thank you,” Fíli said reverently. “I owe you.”  
  
The pony shook her head and glanced to the side where Bofur’s pony stood. When he saw them looking he shyly looked down and scraped a hoof along the ground. Though he quickly peeked back up again, sending a besotted look their way, and Fíli really didn't think that he was the intended recipient.  
  
“Good for you,” Fíli said as he scrambled to his feet. “And my congratulations. Bofur, we’re running away now.”  
  
“And here I thought that Thorin had agreed to marry us,” Bofur joked as Fíli pulled him to his feet. “Though I guess eloping works too.”  
  
“Doesn’t anyone care that I’m slowly being crushed to death by a pony?” Bombur complained.  
  
“Can you still feel your arms and legs?” Bofur asked.  
  
“No?” This was said in a very hopeful tone of voice, and Fíli could clearly see the moment when Bombur stopped waving his arms around.  
  
“Nice try. Keep up the good work,” Fíli said to the pony. “And be glad you’re in love with someone who is shy and quiet.”  
  
“I think I’m offended now.” Bofur turned to Fíli. “Tell me the truth, do you only love me for my stunning good looks?”  
  
“No,” Fíli deadpanned. “It’s because of the hat.”  
  
Bofur looked thoughtful. “I can live with that. There’s plenty of good looking Dwarfs, but my hat is one of a kind.”  
  
They didn’t elope very far, only over to the other side of the camp where Nori, Ori and Bifur was sitting together.  
  
“Nori,” Fíli said as they sat down. “Please tell me that you’re not taking bets on uncle training Bilbo how to fight.”  
  
“I’m not taking bets on your uncle training Bilbo how to fight,” Nori repeated with a particularly innocent expression on his face. Ori rolled his eyes.  
  
“But it’s not even a fair fight, it’s not even a real fight. Thorin is not going to try and-“  
  
“Who said the bet was regarding who would _win_ ,” Nori protested. “That’s boring.”  
  
Fíli rubbed his hand over his face. “Do I want to know?” he asked Ori. The young Dwarf shrugged.  
  
“I think not, but I think you’re still going to ask.”  
  
Bifur snickered and patted Ori on the back hard enough to almost knock him off of the rock he was sitting on.  
  
“My brother is the smartest,” Nori beamed proudly. Fíli and Bofur exchanged a look and wisely did not argue with him, for more than one reason.  
  
“Fine.” Fíli sighed. “Let’s hear it then.”  
  
“Surely you remember how it ended the last time Thorin tried to instruct Bilbo?”  
  
“With a second dinner as Bilbo’s stomach would not stop complaining.”  
  
“Well, yes,” Nori admitted. “But before then they were soulfully staring into each other’s eyes, close enough to taste each other’s breath, and –“  
  
“Thank you, that’s enough.” Fíli slumped against Bofur’s side. “So, you’re betting on who will… kiss the other first?”  
  
Bifur shrugged and did a rude gesture and Nori flapped his hand in the warrior’s direction.  
  
“Kiss, _that_ , all is fair game.”  
  
“I feel the urge to run away again,” Fíli told Bofur. “Though I fear that you are part of the problem this time.”  
  
“Should I expect just you and the hat to elope then? If the hat's placed any bets it hasn't told me about it. It's a pretty quiet little thing though, so I'm not certain it would tell me.”  
  
“So not completely quiet then?” Fíli teased. “Is it whispering sweet-“  
  
Thorin’s shout of surprise made Fíli whip his head in his uncle’s direction, hand already on one of his swords. Upon seeing that Bilbo was no longer by Thorin’s side Fíli’s heart skipped a beat. What had happened?  
  
Then he heard the bright sound of Bilbo’s laugh.  
  
“You were the one who told me to use every advantage I could get,” their burglar called as Thorin turned around in a tight circle looking for him.  
  
“I would kill for a ring like that,” Nori murmured, and then instantly raised his hands in defence when Fíli, Bofur, Ori and Bifur glared at him. “By Mahal, I didn’t mean I’d kill Bilbo! Note how I said 'a ring _like_ that'? But if I stumble over someone else with a magic ring of invisibility, I won’t make any promises.”  
  
“Weren’t you saying that you didn’t need such a ring?” Fíli asked.  
  
“Need and want is not the same thing, my prince,” Nori huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, though his eyes took on a dreamy expression. “Just imagine what someone who knows what he’s doing could _do_.”  
  
Fíli looked over to where Thorin was now pretty much flailing around madly to try and find the giggling Hobbit. “I don’t know, Nori, I don’t think anyone has ever made uncle look that silly before, that’s pretty impressive.”  
  
All of a sudden Thorin froze and the reason for that became apparent when Bilbo made himself visible again. The Hobbit’s blade was aimed at Thorin’s throat, the tip just shy of touching skin.  
  
“So do you yield?” Bilbo asked with a slightly nervous look on his face. “If so, please do it fairly quickly before I accidentally stumble and stab you with this.”  
  
“I yield,” Thorin said, a dark look in his eyes and Fíli winced. Thorin best not have been offended by Bilbo’s little trick, after all it seemed as if it was Thorin himself that had encouraged Bilbo to be creative.  
  
“Oh good,” Bilbo said and returned his weapon to its sheath. “I didn’t want to-“  
  
The rest of the Hobbit’s words was swallowed, rather literally, by Thorin’s kiss and Fíli winced again, albeit for another reason entirely. So a different kind of dark look then.  
  
“Someone owes me some coin,” Bofur sing-songed to Nori. “Told you Thorin would break first.”  
  
“Technically it happened after they had finished their practice,” Nori protested and Ori elbowed him.  
  
“Stop whining,” the scribe told his brother and muttering Nori reached inside his coat to grab a small coin purse which he threw to Bofur.  
  
“You know,” the auburn haired Dwarf said. “Seeing as you are to be the future Prince-consort and all, it’s not really fair of you to take money from your subjects. Not to mention that the Durin’s will have six shares of the treasure when adding yours, Dwalin’s and Bilbo’s.”  
  
“Whereas your family will only hold a measly three shares,” Bofur said, tucking the purse away. “I suffer with you, lad. I do.”  
  
Fíli was pleased to see that this time, the mention of Bofur’s future position did not seem to prompt any anxiety or worry.  
  
“I love you,” he whispered into Bofur’s ear (and if hiding his face against the side of Bofur’s face was a pretty good way to completely block the view of Thorin and Bilbo kissing each other, well that was just good fortune).  
  
“Are you talking to me, or the hat?” Bofur laughed. “But either way, we love you too.”  
  
“Ah, so the hat wants to be whispering sweet nothings into _my_ ear,” Fíli teased. “I hope you won’t be jealous.”  
  
“Hard to be jealous of something that doesn’t have arms to hold you with.” Bofur slung his arms over Fíli’s shoulder to settle him more firmly against his side. “And no lips to kiss you with,” he added, turning his head to press his mouth against Fíli’s temple.  
  
Fíli turned back to gaze solemnly at his love. “But can you keep my head warm in the winter?”  
  
“Daft,” Bofur murmured and lightly pulled on one of Fíli’s braids. “Our dear _subjects_ -“ he turned towards Nori and winked. “Should  consider themselves lucky that someone will be there to make sure you don’t do anything too daft.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Fíli murmured and looked at Thorin more or less carrying Bilbo off to someplace where Fíli most certainly did not want to be. “I think they might get used to it already before it’s my turn. With or without hats.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fashion is a kind of communication. It's a language without words. A great hat speaks for itself."
> 
> Hopefully I will manage another chapter this weekend, but I also want to update my other WIP, so we'll see what will happen. But fingers crossed!
> 
> And for the record, Bombur wasn't really hitting on the pony (she's taken after all!) Ha, jk, but he just don't know when to keep his mouth shut, that's all.


	55. Interlude - To Find One Special Person You Want To Annoy For The Rest Of Your Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Thorin works so hard at not being rude and/or offensive. Will he succeed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't manage another chapter during the weekend, but here it is now instead!

Picking Bilbo up seemed a lot easier than letting go, so that was what Thorin did when he felt like he was about to do something that simply was indecent to do considering that they were practically in the middle of camp.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he murmured into Bilbo’s ear, nuzzling the unravelling braid he had replaited that same morning. Like the Hobbit it belonged to, Bilbo’s hair was deceptively soft and pliant, appearing at first glance to be easy to tame. But when you tried, you quickly realised that nothing could be further from the truth. The second you looked away, everything you thought you knew had changed. And while all the things that had surprised Thorin about Bilbo had almost exclusively been for the better, that could not be said for the ragged looked braid. Unless you counted the pleasure Thorin would take in fixing it again of course…  
  
True to form, Bilbo did not simply do as Thorin bid him.

“Thorin, you can’t pick me up whenever you want to,” he protested, legs kicking at Thorin’s knees. “What must the other think.”  
  
“I assure you, my clever burglar, that if I had picked you up every time the thought occurred to me, then you would hardly ever be walking.”  
  
“Considering that I’ve spent the day riding a pony, that doesn’t really tell me much.” Bilbo smiled a touch wickedly. His hands moved from where they had been clutching Thorin’s shoulder to curl into his hair. “Are these your reins?” he asked, seizing a braid in each hand.  
  
“Are you suggesting that I am your pony?” Thorin asked, a little amused against his will. “Claiming a king as a beast of burden, that is something akin to treason, dear one.”  
  
“I am not the one who decided that I was incapable of walking, _dear_ _one_. And may I ask, are you planning on carrying me far?”  
  
Thorin looked around. It was out of sight from the camp as he had gone around a small hill, but he had not gone far enough to be out of earshot should someone scream. That is to say, a screamed caused by something happening. Something of a dangerous nature. Not, other types of screams. Because while he was tempted, he was not about to have tumble with Bilbo in the middle of nowhere. Bilbo deserved the softest of silks, not prickly grass and wet leaves.  
  
“I think this is far enough.” He loosened his grip on Bilbo and let him slide the short distance down to the ground. Standing inside the circle of his arms Bilbo did not let go of Thorin’s braids.  
  
“Shame, I was just starting to enjoy it.” The Hobbit pulled at the braids again, a small smirk sneaking its way across his face.  
  
“I do not know what ever possessed me to think you shy and innocent.” Thorin smiled down at his Hobbit. “I must have been out of my mind.”  
  
Bilbo dropped one of the braids and moved his hand down to stroke a finger over Thorin’s cheek, moving on to trace his lips.  
“I like it when you smile. You're beautiful.”  
  
“Kings are not beautiful,” Thorin argued. No one had ever called his grandfather beautiful.  
  
“Then I guess I’m committing treason again,” Bilbo said loftily. “Because you are.”  
  
“Handsome?” Thorin suggested. It was better than beautiful.  
  
“That too,” Bilbo agreed, suddenly as agreeable as anything. It was a little bit maddening and there really was no reason for Thorin’s lips to quirk upward again. But before he could get them back under control Bilbo had pressed a kiss against them, and Thorin was hardly going to argue with that, was he.  
  
After a few kisses Thorin pulled back so he could gaze down on Bilbo.  
  
“I am not the one who is beautiful,” he said softly, brushing a thumb along a smooth rosy cheek. “You more lovely than a diamond in mithril.”  
  
Bilbo blinked up at him. “I’m, um, taking that as a compliment,” he said a bit uncertainly.  
  
“I forgot about your kin’s lack of appreciation for such things,” Thorin murmured and stroked his hands slowly up and down Bilbo’s back. (Thorin had previously realised that even just one of his hands was almost large enough to completely span Bilbo’s back. He of course did not at all derive _any_ pleasure from this knowledge.) “What shall I compare you to then? Perhaps I might say that your lips are as soft as petals, and eyes are of a colour much comelier than any flower I have ever seen.”  
  
“That, well, that works,” Bilbo said a bit breathlessly.  
  
“Good to now,” Thorin said solemnly. “I was prepared to liken you to the most scrumptious of meals, consider that you Hobbit have such an appreciation for food , but I felt that it would perhaps be a little forward of me.”  
  
“It would be a little unusual.” Bilbo scrunched up his nose. “But forward?”  
  
“Tell me, dear one, what happens to a scrumptious meal after it’s prepared?”  
  
“I guess someone will eat it?” It was easy to see the very moment Bilbo caught on to his meaning. The Hobbit’s cheeks and ears flushed a dark pink.  
  
“And you wondered why I called you immodest,” Bilbo complained, half-heartedly pushing at Thorin’s chest.  
  
“Are you saying that you dislike having my mouth on you?” Perhaps if Bilbo remained standing… that way he wouldn’t have to lie down on the ground and no principles on the matter would actually be broken…  
  
“Yes, absolutely hate it. And Lobelia is my favourite relative.” Bilbo shook his head. “If I did not know better I would say you were fishing for compliments. But how can it be so when you refuse to accept that you are beautiful?”  
  
“Lobelia?” Thorin questioned.  
  
“Let’s just say that she is definitely _not_ my favourite relative,” Bilbo said and squirmed a bit. “If you knew her you would thank me for not telling you about her.”  
  
“But if I knew this Lobelia you would not have to tell me about her,” Thorin said and feigned a confused frown.  
  
“Yes but-“ Bilbo cut himself off. “You are making fun of me,” he accused, poking a finger into Thorin’s chest. As Thorin was wearing full armour it was similar to being poked by a butterfly.  
  
“I am not the one who has likened either of us to a pony,” Thorin said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“Does the rest of the company know that their king his hiding a sense of humour beneath all those brooding stares?” Bilbo wondered. “I’m fairly sure your nephews don’t.”  
  
“And I believe we are edging back towards treason again, my love.”  
  
“For suggesting that the king has a sense of humour?” Bilbo heaved a sigh. “Oh dear, this is going to end badly.”  
  
That hit a little closer to home than Thorin was comfortable with. At the end of the quest, there was a dragon. Most things involving dragons did end badly. Very much so.

But let it be said that Thorin was capable of learning from past mistakes. (It just took him a while…) Carefully swallowing the words that wanted to spill out regarding just how many miles should be the minimum distance between Hobbits and Dragons (300 sounded about right, at least as a minimum) Thorin instead fumbled for something else to say.  
  
Something that would not cause offence.  
  
“Will you marry me?”  
  
-  
  
Bilbo looked up at Thorin in shook. No, that couldn’t have been what Thorin had said.  
  
“I’m sorry, what did you just say? I thought I heard-“  
  
“Will you do me the honour of  wedding me?”  
  
Oh, that was what he had said.  
  
“Thorin are you, are you joking again?” The look on Thorin’s face made it very clear that that was not the case. “You are not joking,” Bilbo stated, hands twisting awkwardly into Thorin’s hair before letting go completely.

“I didn't know you found the idea of marrying me so humorous.” To say that Thorin’s voice was a bit dry would be like saying that Moria was a bit unsuited for a quiet picnic.

“We've only known each other for a few months, and we’ve only been courting for a few _days_.”

“Don't you love me?” Thorin looked down at him and somehow his eyes seemed to have darkened while at the same time becoming an even brighter blue. It did not make sense. And it was completely unfair because it was really distracting. Then Thorin’s words sunk in.

 “Oh, no. That’s not fair. You do _not_ get to do say that.”  
  
Thorin had the grace to look a little shamefaced and Bilbo relented. Sighing he reached up to kiss Thorin’s cheek.  
  
“Of course I do, you confounded Dwarf. But don’t think you think it is a little sudden?”

“Fíli and Bofur have not known each other for any longer than we have.”

“But they have been courting a lot longer. Besides, Kíli and Dwalin have known each other for how long?”

Thorin mumbled something Bilbo did not quite catch.

“What was that?”

“The first time they met was 75 years ago.”

Bilbo blinked. “Fíli told me how old Kíli was. Isn’t he 77?” At Thorin’s nod Bilbo blinked again. “That’s a bit unusual. Because obviously Dwalin is a fair bit older, but to have seen your lover in nappies?”  
  
“Surely you are not suggesting that anything untoward has happened,” Thorin said sternly. “Dwalin would not-“  
  
“Considering that I’ve never seen anything sadder than Kíli when he believed that Dwalin did _not_ want him, I’m not very worried,” Bilbo said and patted Thorin’s arm, which was still wrapped quite snuggly around him. Surely that was a good sign? They’d had a disagreement, of sorts, and Thorin had not stormed off to brood about it. That had to be counted as progress.  
  
“You do not need to be worried at all.”  
  
Bilbo just barely held in a snort. Because really, did the word Dragon ring any bells? But after their last ‘discussion’ on the matter, it was not worth bringing that topic up again before it was absolutely necessary. And besides, that wasn't what Thorin had meant.  
  
“I’m really not,” he said and instead smiled up at Thorin. “They seem very happy.”  
  
“And are _you_? Happy?”  
  
“I am.” Bilbo was fairly sure that his smile was bordering on ridiculous. Thankfully (?) Thorin’s next words put a stop to it.  
  
“But you do not wish to marry me.” It was not a question, and Thorin’s mouth had gotten that pinched expression that Bilbo really did not care for. The Hobbit sighed.  
  
“Thorin, you don’t really know me. No please, let me finish,” Bilbo added when Thorin opened his mouth to speak. “It wasn’t very long ago when you thought that I best return to the Shire, that I was of no more use than a _grocer_. Even ignoring the fact that we’ve been courting for just a few days, don’t you think it’s a little sudden to speak about marriage?”  
  
“You doubt my feelings for you,” Thorin said, and it was only the brief flash of sadness  that Bilbo saw flash over Thorin’s face that stopped him from pulling his hair.  
  
“Do you doubt that I love you?” Bilbo asked instead, reaching up to cup Thorin’s face with both his hands. Summer-sky blue eyes looked searchingly into his. When Thorin slowly shook his head Bilbo smiled.  
  
“Then will it matter if we wait just a little? I may be off on a mad adventure, but I am still a Hobbit. Usually we court for up towards a year before marriage. ”  
  
“A year? That is-“ Thorin suddenly frowned. He was quiet for a few seconds, then: “We can’t get married.”  
  
Bilbo very bravely resisted the urge to go and knock his head against the nearest tree. Instead he heaved a big sigh and let himself rest his forehead against Thorin’s chest. Which, considering that Thorin had his armour on was perhaps not really any more comfortable than a tree in the long run. A large hand came up to cup the back of his head.  
  
“What I meant to say,” Thorin began. “Is that there really is no way for us go get married until quite some time yet. Perhaps not as long as a year, but not an insignificant period of time nonetheless.”  
  
“Let’s not take this as an agreement that we should get married tomorrow,” Bilbo said cautiously. “But why?”  
  
“There is no one to wed us. One of the other Dwarven Lords has to do it, them or my sister. They will also have to witness the marriage contract. It will not be considered as legally binding otherwise.”  
  
Bilbo wished that he could have been surprised to hear about such a thing as a marriage contract, but after reading the horror that was his employment contract, he would never be surprised by such a thing again.  
  
“It’s much of a less complicated thing amongst Hobbits,” Bilbo mused. “We gather our family and friends, have a grand party, promise to love each other and not be unduly annoyed at each other’s bad habits, and then there’s a kiss, and it’s done.”  
  
Thorin had gotten a very speculative look in his eyes and Bilbo poked his nose.  
  
“We are not getting married tomorrow.”  
  
It was hard to tell what had really prompted the offended look on Thorin’s face, the nose-poking or the continued refusal.  
  
“If it makes you feel better,” Bilbo said. “I’ve never even considered marrying anyone else.”  
  
-  
  
Thorin was torn between a number of conflicting emotions, and only some had to do with being poked like an unruly child.  
  
“You have had offers then?” he asked carefully. He was calm, he was unruffled. He was not at all bothered by the idea of his Hobbit marrying someone else.  
  
Bilbo tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow.  “If you are jealous of the fact that I have turned people _down_ I might have to poke you in the nose again. You want to know _why_ I turned them down?”  
  
Not particularly, but Bilbo did not give him any time to answer.  
  
“Because I did not really love any of them. I thought I did, but I couldn’t see myself waking up with them in twenty years’ time. But I can imagine that with you.”  
  
After such a claim, there was really only one thing Thorin could do.  
  
“What did I tell you about picking me up,” Bilbo murmured between kisses. “And this still doesn’t mean we’re getting married anytime soon. I used to be quite respectable before I met the lot of you.”  
  
“Marriage surely is respectable,” Thorin argued, pressing a kiss against the side of Bilbo’s jaw.  
  
“Not, ah, not, if it’s entered into after a few days of courtship.”  
  
“How long would be deemed respectable then? We are not waiting a year.”  
  
“Is there a point to this discussion as you’ve said that we can’t get married anyway since there is no one to witness the ceremony, or make the contract, or whatever the point of it was.”  
  
Thorin pulled back to look down at the pretty sight a flushed Bilbo made. His Hobbit groaned. “It is really not fair of you to look at me like that. And I can clearly tell who has taught Kíli to master the use of pleading looks.”  
  
“I am not looking at you in a ‘pleading’ manner,” Thorin said, a bit insulted.  
  
“Ah, too bad, I think it was working,” Bilbo said with a small smile.  
  
“Such insolence,” Thorin murmured.  
  
“Then are you quite sure you know what you are doing, asking me to marry you?” Despite Bilbo’s cheerful tone there was something serious in his eyes. Thorin took his Hobbit’s right hand in his and brought it up to his mouth to press a kiss to the centre of it.  
  
“I am sure,” he said, lips still practically touching Bilbo’s skin.  
  
“That’s-“ Bilbo swallowed. “That’s good to know.”  
  
“Never doubt that I love you. Will you promise me that? Can you?”  
  
“I think I can,” Bilbo said, and there was something like quiet wonder in his eyes before he closed them as he got lost in Thorin’s kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that this chapter is basically a game of spot the foreshadowing. Not sure how it happened, but some of their lines are kinda making me think of things that are yet to come. D'ya see what I mean?


	56. Somewhere, Beyond The Sea (Of Grass)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Ori and Glóin are paranoid, Fíli hangs with Balin who pines about rabbits, and the ponies get closer and closer to sainthood for not just dumping the Company on their arses and going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peeps!  
> Sorry for the absence of update last weekend, hope you're still out there. Will try and update again tomorrow (as well as get another chapter out for my other WIP. We'll see how it goes.)

The next morning there was something in the air that reminded Fíli of autumn. A bird or something (not his uncle and Bilbo, blessed be _Mahal_ ; because for all that the pair was tightly intertwined, they were still _very_ much asleep) must have woken him, because as he sat up on the bedrolls he shared with Bofur the sun had yet to creep over the horizon and the camp was still. Even the ponies and Gandalf’s horse still appeared to be asleep, which was probably a good sign, because if there was something dangerous afoot then their sharp ears would have been sure to catch it.

During the night a thin mist had rolled in; partially shrouding the ground and giving the appearance that it somehow had snowed during the night. At least at first glance. And even at the second glance it was hard to convince yourself that it was actually in the middle of summer.

As the blond Dwarf got up Bofur muttered something in his sleep and immediately rolled over to occupy the warm spot that Fíli had just left. It was tempting to wake Bofur, to share a peaceful moment before the rest of the Company woke, but it was probably best to let him sleep. Who knew what the future might bring them. They had only two days to go before they reached Mirkwood, and the closer they got to the forest, the closer they would get to both Orc and Elf territory. The former was perhaps more grave than the latter, but there were few Dwarfs who slept comfortably beneath the roof of an Elf, and especially if it was an Elf their uncle would gladly feed to a certain Dragon if he got the change (Fíli really hoped that they would manage to avoid Thranduil during their passage through Mirkwood. Master Elrond had been bad enough, thank you kindly).

“Good morning.” Balin nodded at him as he joined him by the fire.

“Good morning,” Fíli greeted. “An uneventful night I take it?”

“Indeed, the most excitement I had was when a sleeping Glóin got a bit too familiar with one of the ponies.” Balin lowered his voice. “I think he thought that its mane was his wife’s beard, and between you and me, lad, we should be very happy that he did not think the same thing about its _tail_.”

Fíli snorted. “I bow to your wisdom, as always.”

“Then perhaps you will find us some more wood, my prince,” Balin suggested. “We might as well get this fire going properly before the rest of them wakes up.”

-

It wasn’t long before the sun rose in the East, the golden red light chasing off the chill and the mist, and after a quick breakfast of some of the more perishable food Beorn had sent with them they continued their journey.  
  
The second day continued much in the same manner as their first one had ended; with Fíli being torn between being amused and being uncomfortable.  
  
There wasn’t much in the landscape they passed to district him from Thorin’s continued rather awkward courting of their little burglar, just grass, more grass, some grass, (oh, a _bush_! No wait, that’s just a _big_ tuft of grass) and the occasional flower and tree. And as such, Fíli had to work pretty hard not to see certain things. Such as Thorin's eyes lingering a little too long at certain places on Bilbo's body, but to be honest, hearing Thorin talk about gardening was probably more disturbing.

Kíli had grabbed Dwalin and declared that they would scout ahead before Fíli had gotten the chance to do the same thing with Bofur. Not that there really was much to scout. Sure, they were getting closer to enemy land (let it be unsaid if Fíli meant the Elves or the Orcs...) but they were still not close enough to risk encountering more than a random patrol. The landscape had flattened out considerably, making it almost impossible for someone, or something, to approach them without being seen. Unless they were perhaps crawling along on the ground, but then they had to be very good crawlers to be able to keep up with the ponies; who were making very good time.

The offer to scout ahead was then basically just the chance to actually be alone; but as Kíli and Dwalin had already volunteered, there wasn’t much else to do for Fíli then to trot along with the rest of the company. He could perhaps have offered to fall back to see that they were not followed, but who would follow them from Beorn’s? (Surely the rabbits didn’t miss Balin that much already…)

The lack of variation in their surrounding was boring to be sure, but it also seemed to make both Glóin and Ori increasingly uncomfortable, albeit for slightly different reasons.  
  
“The sky seems awfully big, doesn’t it?” Fíli heard their scribe ask Nori, who just shrugged.

“Not much to be done about the size of the sky, Ori. It’s been roughly that size ever since it was made.”

“Roughly?”

“Well, every now and again a star falls, doesn’t it?” Nori argued. “It has to come from somewhere and since it does, it has to leave a hole behind it when it goes. So it gets a bit smaller.”

Ori did not look at all comforted by the reminder that bits of the sky could decide to come falling down on their heads. If he’d had reins he probably would have squeezed them hard enough to make his knuckles white, but as it were, if the hands he had sunk into the pony’s mane were tightly clenched it was impossible to tell since the abundance of hair hiding his hands from view.

Glóin on the other hand seemed more upset with the lack of mountains, which in a way was connected to the abundance of sky, but not really the same thing when you got down to it.

“It’s not right,” Glóin muttered as he squinted towards the horizon in an effort to make a mountain, or at least a hill, appear by sheer force of will. “It’s unnatural, that’s what it is. No rocks, no boulders, barely even any stones. One could almost suspect that something lives nearby, something that feeds on stone.”

“A pretty big something then,” Fíli said thoughtfully. “If you are suggesting that it eats mountains.”

It seemed that Glóin did not appreciate his input because he glared at Fíli and moved up to ride next to Óin; who did not seem overly troubled by his brother’s mutterings (or it could be that he simply couldn’t hear them…).

With a sigh Fíli looked towards where Bofur was riding next to Bombur and Bifur. Would it be horribly rude of him to go and snag his husband-to-be from his family? He had the sudden urge to talk to someone _sane_ – and as much as he liked both Bombur and Bifur, their mental stability was a little questionable…

“I dread what would happen if any of those two would go to the ocean,” Balin said and Fíli turned towards the older Dwarf who had just rode up beside him. Well, Balin was pretty sane, fondness of rabbits aside…

They both directed their gazes towards Ori and Glóin. (The former still staring up with a suspicious frown on his face.) “At least it’s green here, and every now and again you see a tree, or a deer, or-“ Balin sighed. “A rabbit.”

Deciding to ignore Balin’s pining for the moment, Fíli instead focused on what Balin had revealed.

“You’ve been to the ocean?” he asked. “How could I not know that?”

“Oh, it was before you were born, lad,” Balin said with a chuckle. “Long before. But yes, I have been to the sea. Though if our dear Ori thinks the sky is big here, and if our dear Glóin thinks the land is flat, they would most definitely not be in favour of making the trip themselves.” Balin sighed, lost in memories.

“If you stand with your back against the land, and look out at the ocean, all you see is blue. After a while, you won’t know where the sky begins and the sea ends.”  
  
Since the most water Fíli had seen at once was probably all the waterfalls in Rivendell it was hard to picture what Balin was telling him.

“Did you go on a ship?” Fíli asked, curious to know what Balin was doing by the ocean in the first place. Ered Luin was fairly close to the sea, sure, but it was still rare for a Dwarf to cross the mountains and actually go there. After all, what would be the use? Dwarfs were not fishermen nor sailors, and most were not particularly good swimmers either.

“Ah, no lad, I did not.”

“Why did you go to then? Did Uncle send you? Or my grandfather?”

“Nothing like that, Fíli. Ask yourself, why does any youngling do ill-advised things?” Balin’s smile was fond. “For love, of course. And she was lovely, and she wanted sea shells.”

“Sea shells?”

“Aye,” Balin chuckled. “She had this idea that since sea shells were harder to come by than most gemstones, they were worth more. So that was what she asked for as a courting gift. And of course I wouldn’t settle for buying the things off some human merchant. No. I couldn’t settle for anything less than going to the sea myself, to collect the blasted things for her.”  
  
“What happened to her?” Fíli asked, thoughts flittering between a great number of accidents and sicknesses, and all the other things that could befall a Dwarf. Balin had never married after all, that Fíli was sure of.

“Nothing, she wed a silversmith and last I heard they had two children.”

Fíli blinked.

“Not all loves will be _the_ love,” Balin said kindly. “Though one would not know it to look at you and your family, lad. It’s always been that way for your branch of the line of Durin. Not to say that your brother didn’t surprise me when he declared himself to my brother. I had thought that if it would happen, it would already have happened.”  
  
“You thought it _would_ happen?” This was definitely news to Fíli who hadn’t even realised it was Dwalin his brother loved until the very moment he saw the both of them sitting close enough that not even air could have moved between their bodies.

“I have found that having notions costs very little, but having no notions can be very dear.”  
  
“In other words,” Fíli said. “It is better to consider every possibility than to consider none of them?”

Balin chuckled. “My prince, that is the foundation of a strong kingdom and a great ruler. ”  
  
Fíli glanced towards Bofur, who was still riding ahead of him with Bombur and Bifur. “Yes,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s better to have an idea of what you want, instead of nothing at all. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to go and borrow my betrothed. I’ve hardly spoken two words to him all day.”

“Perhaps tomorrow you can be the ones who offer to scout ahead,” Balin suggested with a playful glint in his eyes. “After all, it’s hardly fair to your brother and Dwalin if they would have to do it two days in a row.”

It was quite clear that Balin was well aware of just who that would be unfair to and Fíli beamed at him before asking his pony to go to Bofur. (Which she was more than happy to do.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't really ask for favours when I'm so crap at updating, but if you feel generous, please drop me a comment just to say: hi, still reading this monster of a story. Who knows, maybe it'll motivate me to update faster ;)


	57. A Tree By Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in Bombur continues to have no tact, and Fíli tries to figure out a way to tell Bofur that they don't have to get married.
> 
> (Since the tags doesn't lie, I promise it's not as dire as it sounds. Mostly it's just Fíli being insecure/a worry wart/noble.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again! And with a longer chapter this time. Huzzah!

That evening Fíli took Balin’s advice and volunteered himself and Bofur as scouts for the next day. Let it be said that Fíli was a pretty good tactician, because he presented his offer when both his brother and Dwalin had their mouths full of the sticky honey buns Beorn had sent with them, and he also timed it so that Thorin and Bilbo had just finished eating. That way, Thorin would be more interested in spending some time alone with Bilbo (for more lesson on how to fight, of course, nothing else, la la la) than to discuss just which two would have the privilege of watching the grass grow in private.  
  
Fíli suspected that if Thorin would have thought he’d get away with it, he’d offer to scout ahead himself; together with Bilbo of course. But scouting was not a job for a king, so Thorin was pretty much stuck in the middle of the group. Though his loss was someone else’s gain, and it was _not_ going to be Kíli’s again if Fíli could help it.  
  
“Uncle,” Fíli said just as Thorin was preparing to rise from his seat by the fire. “It’s hardly fair to ask my brother and Dwalin to scout ahead two days in a row. I would volunteer myself and Bofur in their stead.”  
  
Fíli felt particularly pleased with how he’d phrased that, after all, he had not said just to _whom_ it wouldn’t be fair. Though from the way Kíli’s eyes bulged, and the choked “Mmmpf!” he presented as an argument, it was pretty clear that _he_ had a fairly strong opinion on the matter.  
  
“We don’t mind,” Bofur said modestly, and Fíli would have kissed him for being so clever if it wouldn’t have rather gotten in the way of what they were doing. “It’s only right that we do our part.”  
  
Thorin was already a bit distracted as Bilbo was bent over a nearby stream, rinsing out his bowl (Fíli was NOT going to focus on _why_ that was distracting to Thorin, he just was NOT) and when the blond Dwarf did not get a reply right away he prompted his uncle again.  
  
“Thorin? Then it’s settled, Bofur and myself will scout ahead tomorrow?”  
  
“Erh!” Kíli protested and tried to chew faster, but luckily the buns gave ample resistance. (Not that they were not delicious, but even a small bite had a way of growing in your mouth. Good for filling the stomach - bad for polite conversation. If Kíli could _ever_ be said to be particularly skilled at that.)

“Fine,” Thorin said, his eyes briefly meeting Fíli’s before flitting back to Bilbo. “You can scout.” With that Thorin rose to his feet and went to collect his Hobbit (FOR SWORD PRACTICE, _nothing_ else).  
  
The grin Fíli gave to his brother was of course not at all smug. And the scowl Kíli sent back was of course not filled with the threat of violence. They were both too mature for that sort of thing.  
  
A resigned expression on his face (and mouth still full of bread) Dwalin looked to Bofur who shrugged at least somewhat apologetically.  
  
“Fair’s fair,” the miner said softly with another shrug. Dwalin sighed and went back to chewing; apparently accepting his fate.  
  
Kíli on the other hand, had just remembered what Iglishmêk was and was as a result of that too busy threatening his brother to care about what his lover was doing.   
  
“I’m pretty sure that’s not physically possible, brother,” Fíli said with a wince. “But if you know it to be true, I really do not want to know how you came by this information.”  
  
It’s possible Kíli would have offered to demonstrate (and the exact nature of that demonstration is best left to not describe) if it hadn’t been for Dwalin’s restraining arm around his waist. Swallowing thickly, Dwalin then leant in to murmur something in the seething Kíli’s ear. Whatever it was seemed to settle him somewhat, because with a huff sat back down and resumed chewing.

“Do you think we can trust Dwalin to keep Kíli from coming and murdering us in our sleep?” Bofur whispered into Fíli’s ear.  
  
“Bofur,” Fíli protested. “He’s my brother.”  
  
“Just maiming us then,” Bofur amended and snickered. “And just enough that it would be ill-advised for us to do the scouting.”  
  
Fíli looked at him reproachfully and Bofur snorted and slung his arm over Fíli’s shoulders.  
  
“You know I’m just kidding.” Bofur glanced towards the still dark-eyed Kíli. “Well, I hope I am.”  
  
Fíli sighed and moved so that their thighs were pressed together. “He’s hardly going to kill anyone just because he was not allowed to be alone with Dwalin. Least of all his family.” Arranging his face a grieved expression Fíli then turned towards Bofur, taking his hand. “So on that note: good-bye, my love. It’s a shame we are not yet wed so Kíli can call you family.”  
  
Whatever Fíli had expected as a reply to his jest, it had not been Bofur’s eyes turning very soft before he leaned forward to briefly touch his lips to Fíli’s.  
  
“I, um, okay?” Fíli asked smoothly when they parted.  
  
“I love you,” Bofur said, as if that was a response that made sense. And to be fair, it made more sense than Fíli’s had just made. Luckily for him, there was one thing that Fíli could always say to that.  
  
“I love you too.”

“Can’t you just snog instead?” That of course, was Bombur. “You are so sweet you make even _my_ teeth ache.”

“Let them be,” Nori called from across the camp.  
  
“Think he’s got a bet riding on us,” Fíli murmured to Bofur who nodded.  
  
“Aye, probably. But I don’t think we want to know.”  
  
“My opinion exactly,” Fíli said and glanced to where Nori, Ori and Glóin was sitting. For someone with a wife at home Glóin looked just a little too interested in what Fíli and Bofur was up to. In other words, whatever the bet, it was likely that he was the one who had bet against Nori.

Turning back to his brother, Bofur raised an eyebrow.  
  
“If you don’t like what you see or hear, feel free to ignore us.  Want me to show you how to ignore someone? I have had plenty of practice, brother dear.”  
  
“How you wound me.” Bombur pressed his chubby hands to his belly. “My only brother. Oh, my heart!”  
  
“Your heart is _nowhere_ near to where you’re pointing!” Óin called, lapsing into muttering about how it was lucky that everyone was at least able to locate their _heads_ , on most days anyway. (And if there was something in those heads, Óin would let go unsaid.)  
  
“I think our good healer is mistaken,” Bombur said with a wink. “The way to my heart has always been through my stomach.”  
  
Bofur groaned, together with most of the ponies.  
  
“If only it wasn’t such a large stomach,” Bombur said a bit gloomily. “So far I’ve yet to meet the one who is dedicated enough to get through it.”  
  
“You will,” Bofur said with a comforting smile. “And they’ll be a great cook, I’m sure of it.”  
  
“ _She_ ,” Bombur corrected his brother. “No offence intended-“ Fíli raised both eyebrows in disbelief. “But I think I’ll leave the boys to you. Not enough arse, hip or-“  
  
“Thank you, brother,” Bofur interjected. “That’s enough.”  
  
“-breast,” Bombur continued, undisturbed. He looked critically at Fíli. “I just think it’s a bit of a waste.”  
  
Bofur looked a bit like he wanted to sink down into the ground, and Fíli was torn between being offended or just really, really amused. And also:  
  
“ _Boys_?” Fíli asked, dragging out the s and raising an eyebrow. “I can hardly be called a boy, and I hope you’re not insinuating that I would not be enough for Bofur. Even considering my lack of arse, hips and of course, _breast_.”  
  
Bofur muttered something under his breath that sounded a bit like “Not complaining.” But it was hard to hear what with his face being bent down between his knees. (A smaller part of Fíli – though not that small - felt the need to observe the ease Bofur had bent himself in half, felt to need to briefly think of the other occasions that skill was indeed useful.)  
  
“’Course not,” Bombur said, looking offended on Bofur’s behalf. “It’s not like he’d marry you if he didn’t think he wanted to be with you. Then he’d just share a bed with you and be done with it.”  
  
“Thanks, I think,” Fíli said slowly, trying to work out what part of that statement was a compliment.  
  
“You’re welcome,” Bombur grinned. “Of course you’re not married yet, so there's still time-“  
  
Bofur suddenly unfurled himself from his bent -over position and grabbed Fíli’s hand before standing up.  
  
“I think I just heard a very suspicious sound from over there,” he said and nodded to an innocently looking tree. “I think we; Fíli and myself, really should go and investigate.”  
  
There was something strange going on with Bofur’s voice, it sounded... almost like something was almost choking him. Bemused and starting to feel a bit worried, Fíli followed him. But of course Bombur could not let them go in silence.  
  
“If _we_ start to hear any more suspicious noises, I’ll be sure to cough politely before interrupting your snogging!”  
  
The tree was just as innocent looking up close as it had been from a distance. Fíli didn’t know exactly what tree it was; he didn’t really recognize the shape of the leaves, but it was pretty old and sturdy. In other words, more than wide enough to shield them from the rest of the company should there actually be any snogging in the future. Though, from the strained look of Bofur, that didn’t really seem to be in the cards. (Still, Fíli was nothing if not optimistic.)  
  
Once they were behind the tree Bofur sagged against it, sinking down until he was seated on the ground with his back pressed up against the truck. When he then pressed his head against his upraised knees and his shoulders started to shake Fíli hurriedly crouched down on the ground next to him. Surely nothing Bombur had said was bad enough to cry over? It was just the usual unfiltered things as always. Fíli hadn’t even really been truly offended, he actually appreciated Bombur’s honestly. Mostly anyway.  
  
“Hey,” Fíli said and cupped Bofur’s cheek and turning his face up. “No need for- for _laughing_?”  
  
There was indeed tears in Bofur’s eyes, but the snorts and giggles that escaped his mouth – despite his attempts to supress them – seemed to indicate that Bofur wasn’t feeling particularly gloomy after all.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Bofur hiccupped. “It’s- I’m, it’s too ridiculous. I’ve known Bombur all his life. I know exactly what he was going to say. And it would be so stupid that I would have to laugh and if I had laughed so he could see it he would never have let it go. And it would have stopped being funny pretty damned quickly. So I didn't want to do that.”  
  
“What was he going to say?” Fíli asked, curious despite himself.  
  
“He would have said that since we’re not married yet there’s still plenty of time for me to change my mind.” Bofur shook his head and chuckled. “About you,” he clarified needlessly. “As if that would happen.” Bofur dragged in a shaky breath. "Oh, my stomach hurts."  
  
Fíli stilled, thinking back to what he had talked to Balin about earlier that day. ‘Not all loves will be _the_ love’ Balin had said. Because that was how the world worked, wasn’t it? Unless you hailed from a particularly stubborn line of Durin. What if Bofur did change his mind? There was no doubt in Fíli’s mind that Bofur really did love him. But what if that was not enough? What if one morning Bofur would wake up and not love him anymore, or, at least not love him in the same way. That must have happened to Balin and that lass, so why not to Bofur?  
  
“You can you know,” Fíli said haltingly. “Change your mind.” Bofur’s chuckles abruptly stopped.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, looking up at Fíli with narrowed green eyes.

Fíli tried to think of a way to say ‘If you didn’t love me anymore that would be okay’ that wouldn’t be a lie, but it was a pretty hard thing to do. His gaze slipped away from Bofur to instead stick to a tree branch. The branch had no suggestions either.  
  
“I wouldn’t make you marry me, if you didn’t want to.” There, that was pretty good. It was still relevant, still true, but it didn’t make his heart feel like someone had stomped on it.  
  
“Really,” Bofur said slowly. “And here I thought you were exactly the type to force people to marry you against their will. Idiot.”  
  
Startled, a wide-eyed Fíli turned back to look at Bofur.

“Giving me that look is not going to help,” Bofur said sternly and Fíli blinked, because _what_ look? “Tell me what you’re not telling me.”  
  
“People can change their minds, about things. And that’s all right," Fíli said awkwardly, thinking about Balin and the unnamed girl. "It’s not something anyone can help.”  
  
Bofur crossed his arms and looked at Fíli sternly. “If this is you trying to tell me that _you_ don’t want to get married, then it’s a pretty sad attempt.”  
  
“What? No!” Fíli protested. This was a disaster, a calamity, a- Bofur was _smiling_.  
  
“You’re smiling,” Fíli said, feeling pretty much like the idiot Bofur had just accused him of being.  
  
“I am,” Bofur agreed, still smiling.  
  
“Any particular reason for that?” Fíli asked carefully.  
  
“Because you’re very daft and I still want to marry you.” Bofur smiled up at him, and Fíli’s knees took that as a okay to finally stop crouching and sink to the ground.  
  
“You know how much I love this hat,” Bofur said, reaching up to touch one of the flaps. Fíli nodded, still feeling fairly confused, but deciding to go with it for now. “What do you think I’d do if anything would happen to it?”  
  
For some reason Fíli’s mind jumped back to when he used to have lessons with Balin. He’d always hated the days Balin had decided to quiz him about all sorts of random things that he thought Fíli should have learnt. It didn’t matter if he actually knew the answer or not, Fíli still hated to feel that he _might_ not know an answer.  
  
“You’d be sad?” he offered.  
  
“I would indeed,” Bofur agreed and nodded. “Very sad. I’ve had this hat for quite some time and I’m very fond of it. But do you know what I’d do after I stopped feeling sorry for myself?”  
  
Bofur didn’t give Fíli the time to say anything before providing the answer himself. “I’d get a new hat. But Fíli, people aren’t hats.”  
  
It wasn’t a question, but it still felt like there was a trick to it... Either that or Bofur had maybe been out to long in the sun that day.  
  
“People aren’t hats, I agree,” Fíli said cautiously. “Bofur, are you feeling all right?”  
  
“In other words,” Bofur continued without paying any notice to Fíli's question. “People can’t be replaced.” He cupped Fíli’s face with both his hands. “And Fíli, I love you a thousand times more than I love my hat.”  
  
That really shouldn’t have made Fíli’s heart feel too big for his chest, but it still did.  
  
“And I’m going to feel the same way in a hundred years," Bofur continued. "In a thousand if I’d still be alive then. Which isn’t likely mind you, but still. So whatever silly notion you’ve managed to convince yourself of, let it go.”  
  
“But,” Fíli protested. “What if-“  
  
“What if _you_ stop loving me?” Bofur countered and Fíli fell silent because he knew he wouldn't.  
  
“Just promise me, that if it _would_ happen, you’d tell me?" Fíli pressed their foreheads together. "As soon as you knew?” The idea that Bofur would stop loving him but wouldn’t tell him out of some sense of loyalty, or even worse, _duty_ , was horrifying. Possibily even more so than Bofur just not loving him anymore.  
  
“Mahal, you really are quite daft,” Bofur said with enough fondness in his voice that Fíli didn’t even feel insulted. “I promise, you can promise me something in return then.”  
  
“Anything,” Fíli said earnestly.  
  
“That’s quite a big promise, your highness,” Bofur teased. “Lucky for you I’m not really after half the kingdom, but I’ll confess to be pretty fond of the heir to the throne. So I would ask him to promise me that whenever there is something troubling him, he would tell me about it. Just like this. Though beneath another tree is also fine. Or without any trees around at all.”  
  
“Since the heir is rumoured to be almost insufferably daft, I’m sure he could use the help,” Fíli said drily, smiling when Bofur’s brow furrowed. “I’m just making fun, I promise. To tell you, I mean. It’s worked for me so far, hasn’t it?”  
  
“I hope so,” Bofur murmured and wound his arms around Fíli’s neck. “I-“

“There is a suspicious lack of suspicious noises! What _are_ you two doing? Did a squirrel kidnap you or what?”

“I thought you said you would cough,” Bofur complained as Bombur huffed into view.  
  
“Cough,” Bombur said unconvincingly. “Excuse me for worrying.”  
  
“We should go back anyway,” Fíli said with a sigh. “We might reach the edge of the forest as early as tomorrow night, and I know I won’t be sleeping nearly as good right on the edge of it. Can’t say I’m looking forward to sleeping inside of it either.”  
  
“Eh,” Bombur said. “I don’t think any of us will get much sleep once we’re in Mirkwood. The way Beorn tells me it’s not really the kind of place you go to for a nice after dinner stroll.”  
  
“Bombur,” Bofur said, amused. “The only place _you_ go to for an after dinner stroll is back to the pantry for seconds.”  
  
“That still counts!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all that he really is insecure, Fíli is quite the responsible little thing in this. So, for the record , of course it’s okay to fall out of love with someone, just don’t be a dick about it. 
> 
> But I have the feeling that this is not going to happen to Fíli and Bofur ;) Call it... an author’s prerogative/intuition.


	58. The Pony Whisperer, Or: The Dwarf Whisperer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein no one actually whispers, but there's a whole lot of conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The choice of title depends entirely on who you ask, Fíli, or Fíli's pony. (Who actually has a name that I'm afraid will never make it into the story, but it's basically Sunshine. Now you know.)

On their third evening away from Beorn’s home the trees they passed were clustered together in pairs, or even as many as five trees at once, but five trees does not make a forest and when it became clear that they would not reach Mirkwood that night the company decided to make camp. Or, that was more or less what had happened anyway.  
   
“I guess when Beorn said ‘early on the fourth day’ he meant early on the fourth day,” Fíli said to Bofur as they dismounted.  
  
“Indeed,” Bofur replied. “Come with me to Bombur and Bofur? I know it’s late, but we should eat something.”  
  
“I just need to stretch my legs a little,” Fíli said. “Before I forget I have feet.”  
  
Bofur smiled at him and after saying good night to his pony the miner walked away to find his brother and cousin.  
  
Fíli’s pony whickered and Fíli patted her on the side. “Yes, yes, I’m sure you just said something very profound about either my feet or yours, but I still do not speak Pony.” Fíli abruptly yawned, which transferred into a smirk when both the ponies yawned with him. Did normal ponies yawn, he wondered. He could not recall seeing it before.

As Bofur had said it was indeed late, much later than when they had stopped on the previous two nights. Since there had been a chance that they’d reach the forest gate (a gate that was the entrance to a _fairly_ safe path through the forest) Thorin had decided that they should continue even after dusk had fallen and the moon had sailed up on the sky. They probably would have continued for a while yet, but when Bilbo almost fell asleep in his saddle it was decided that making camp was probably for the best. (In other words, Thorin almost fell from _his_ saddle in an attempt to catch Bilbo, and Thorin decided that he preferred it if the night ended without anyone accidentally concussing themselves. There had been a rock, not all that far from where Bilbo’s head could have ended up.)  
  
At the moment Thorin and Bilbo was also dismounting their ponies, and Fíli watched as Bilbo did so with considerably more grace than he’d use at the start of their journey. Especially those first nights in the Shire had been memorable. The very first night when Bilbo had tried to get down from his pony he’d managed to get himself tangled in one of the packs and had ended up dangling upside down on the side of the pony. Another notable instance hadn’t actually been a dismounting, but instead an attempt to get up on his pony. Bilbo had been just a little too enthusiastic (though in a completely unenthusiastic way) about it and had ended up heaving himself completely over the pony, ending up in a sad looking pile on the grass on the other side of it.

“I didn’t fall asleep,” Bilbo protested as Thorin made him sit by the fire instead of going to gather more wood. “I thought I saw… something,” the Hobbit glanced towards Gandalf. “So I was distracted and just slipped. No sleeping involved at all.”

Amused Fíli watched as his uncle carefully tucked his cloak around Bilbo’s shoulders. Would Bilbo ever know how many times he’d slept covered by that same cloak? Probably not.  
  
“So you are not tired then?” Thorin asked as he adjusted the cloak to cover Bilbo’s knees. “Not that it matters, I do not think that our mounts wish to go further this night now that we’ve stopped.”  
  
Most of the ponies neighed in agreement and the pony Bilbo had been riding came over to give him a friendly snuffle on his right ear. Perhaps that was Pony for ‘thank you for almost banging your head on a rock and making that grumpy looking Dwarf realise that stars in the sky actually means sleeping time’. If it did then Pony was certainly an interesting language as one snuffle could mean that much.  
  
“I’m not saying I wish to continue riding,” Bilbo argued. “I’m saying that I’m perfectly able of finding something to burn without accidentally getting killed while looking.”  
  
Seeing the dark cloud descending over Thorin’s face - why did Bilbo have to talk about dying - Fíli hurriedly tried to think of a way to interrupt the budding argument. He took a few steps towards Bilbo and called out:  
  
“What did you see, Bilbo? Not Goblins or Orcs I hope.”  
  
Again Bilbo glanced towards the Wizard, who looked was very occupied with smoking his pipe.  
  
“Just… shadows,” Bilbo answered Fíli’s question. “Nothing to worry about.”  
  
“I would like to speak with you, Bilbo,” Thorin asked – tiptoeing the line of _ordering_ , but managing to stay on the side of asking for now. “Please,” he added when the Hobbit didn’t immediately agree. Fíli sighed. There went his attempt at distraction. Okay, so it hadn’t been a very good attempt. But even so.  
  
“Fine. Of course.” Bilbo sighed as well and took Thorin’s outstretched hand. The Hobbit awkwardly tried to gather up cloak as he rose; to avoid trampling it into the ground. The result was fairly endearing as the Hobbit briefly disappeared beneath the thick fabric before Thorin extracted him.  
  
At least their day had been fairly peaceful, Fíli thought as his uncle and Bilbo went to have their talk. He could handle a little family drama if it came to that. It would be a cheap price to have paid to have been able to spend almost the entire day alone with Bofur. Alone. What a lovely word.  
  
Even Kíli’s glaring had been an acceptable price, thought compared to his brother’s looks over dinner the other night, the glare he’d sent Fíli that morning had been fairly mild. Dwalin was obviously a good influence on Kíli, because usually his brother carried a grudge a fair bit longer.  
  
At the moment Kíli was too busy talking to Ori about something to glare though, so it was a bit hard for Fíli to judge how much of the grudge still remained. Best to stay clear of him a while longer though.  
  
“Do you have any siblings?” he asked his pony who had come up to stand beside him again. She nodded her head and made an odd sort of whistling sound. One of the two white ponies that had accompanied them raised its head and neighed in response. Fíli thought Ori might have been riding that one which was very fitting, because just like Ori the pony had a look that hinted that they were perhaps not quite finished growing yet, both height and width wise. A coltish look. Fíli smirked, but it turned more genuine when he looked back at his pony.  
  
“I see you are the older sister?”  
  
The pony nodded again and Fíli chuckled. “I knew there was a reason why I liked you, my friend. Tell me, is your sibling as much of a nuisance at times as my brother?”  
  
The pony snorted and shook her head, and then she began scraping on the ground. No wait, she was _drawing_ something. Once she had finished she nodded her head in Kíli’s direction and snorted again, clearing amused.  
  
Fíli looked down on the ground and frowned. It wasn’t a complicated picture, in fact, it was just a circle. Or, more like an oval actually and the top was slimmer than the bottom. It looked like…  
  
The blond Dwarf laughed. “It’s an egg, isn’t it?” he asked and the pony nodded eagerly. “Who told you?” There hadn’t been any ponies around when Kíli managed to traumatize himself by watching Bilbo drop one of the eggs he’d been carrying.  
  
The pony neighed and her ears twitched wildly. At first Fíli took it for frustration for not being able to speak to him directly, but when the pony tilted her head in Balin's direction and then the way Bilbo and Thorin had disappeared Fíli caught on to her meaning.

"Ah, the rabbits?" After all, that was a logical conclusion after ‘ears’, ‘Balin’, and ‘Bilbo’.

The pony nodded.

"So you can all talk amongst one another?” Fíli asked, feeling intrigued. “And with Beorn as well I assume?"

Another nod.

"So you speak Rabbit?"

The pony snorted and shook her head, whinnying to make it completely clear that what _she_ spoke didn’t at all sound like a rabbit.

"Ah, but you understand it then. You all understand each other’s languages?"

She rolled her eyes, but nodded once again.

"Is it hard to learn?” Fíli wondered. “I could see how it could be useful." He’d heard stories about those who could speak the language of animals; mostly that of the birds, and in those stories it had always been very practical. Allowing the heroes to communicate over great distances and helping them to defeat their foes.

“What are you doing?”  
  
Fíli did not jump as Kíli suddenly spoke. He merely… turned around, with speed.  
  
“Our friend here is kind enough to distract me from whatever mess Thorin is getting himself into now,” Fíli said a bit cautiously, unsure if Kíli had sought him out to take his revenge.  
  
“Oh, relax,” Kíli said and nudged Fíli’s shoulder with his own. “I’m not really upset anymore. It’s stupid being upset with you about such a childish thing when we’ll be going into Mirkwood in the morning. What if a tree eats you? Then I’d rather that we were not at odds.”  
  
“Why would a tree- Never mind,” Fíli said. “But I’m glad.”  
  
“So do you think you’ll need the distraction?”  
  
They both turned to look at their uncle and Bilbo. Thankfully, none of them seemed upset. At least not yet.

“Who knows.” Fíli shrugged. But maybe it's _Bilbo_ ’s turn to put his foot into it. He's got pretty big feet after all.”

They looked at each other.   
  
“Nah.” 

Snickering Kíli threw his arm over Fíli’s shoulder. “Big feet or not, my coin is still on our uncle. But come brother, join me and Dwalin by the fire. I promise that I will not let the trees-“

Kíli looked over Filis shoulder and his expression turned horrified. Fíli quickly turned around as well;  sure that he would either see Thorin making a complete ass of himself or the two of them being eaten by Wargs. Instead he was met by the image of the pair wrapped around each other and kissing.  
  
“Brother,” Kíli said in a slightly choked voice and when Fíli looked back at him his brother had covered his eyes with one hand. “All is forgiven if you’ll lead me back to Dwalin.”  
  
“I thought all already was forgiven?” Fíli nonetheless grabbed his brother’s arm to steer him back to the fire.  
  
Behind them the pony neighed, and even though Fíli admittedly still did not know Pony, it certainly sounded like ‘I _told_ you your brother was more trouble than my own sibling’. There was something about the sound that was just so distinctly smug.


	59. Interlude - Late Nights And Early Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is an argument about who has almost died more, Bilbo compares Thorin to a mule (though not out loud) and Thorin muses on Hobbit ages and Hobbit strangeness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For samia1381 who left the sweetest comment. *waves* Hope you've had the time to read this far by now.

Whatever reasons Gandalf had for not wanting to reveal that Beorn was skulking around in the shadows Bilbo hoped they were good one. He also hoped that the bear he’d seen was indeed Beorn or they’d all run the risk of being eaten in the night. Unless Thorin’s frown scared it off first.  
  
Bilbo wouldn’t want to eat a grumpy looking carrot, so it stood to reason that a bear wouldn’t want to eat a grumpy looking Dwarf. Bad for digestion, or so Bilbo _hoped_. Because he really didn’t want Thorin to get eaten, no matter how ridiculous he was being at the moment.  
  
“Surely you are not upset about me wanting to help?” Bilbo said and crossed his arms, then quickly uncrossed them. He was not going to be defensive. He had done nothing wrong. Whatever reason Thorin had for wanting to talk to him away from the rest of the company, it had better be a most _excellent_ reason.  
  
“Thinking about your death distresses me.”  
  
Bilbo blinked. “Well, I can’t say that the idea of you dying fills me with joy either. Far from it.” He still didn’t like thinking about how close that Orc had come to killing Thorin, or how very still the Dwarf had been when lying on top of the Carrock.  
  
So really, there was no reason for Thorin to give him such a look. Especially since _he_ was the one who had started this particular subject and Bilbo told him as much.  
  
“So _I_ was the one who said that I would go look for firewood and get myself killed was I?” Thorin asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“I didn’t say that,” Bilbo protested. “I said that I would _not_ get killed.” The Hobbit raised his hands. “Though I take your point. But to be fair, I wasn’t the one about to be beheaded by an Orc just a few days ago.”  
  
“No,” Thorin said drily. “You were just going to be eaten by some creature down in the Goblin caves, after one of the Goblins had almost torn your throat out-“  
  
“It was a small _bite_!” Bilbo complained. “It barely even broke skin.”  
This argument went unheard.  
  
“- and let’s not forget when you were almost eaten by Trolls.”  
  
“We were _all_ almost eaten by trolls.” Despite his best intentions Bilbo found that he’d crossed his arms. It was ridiculous. Here he was, a Hobbit, having an argument with a Dwarf; a King no less, about whether or not their quest was too dangerous. And he, Bilbo Baggins, was the one claiming that it _wasn’t_ too dangerous. Bilbo was just about to inform Thorin of just how ridiculous this entire thing was when Thorin’s eyes softened and the Dwarf’s hand came up to cup his cheek.  
  
So very, very gently Thorin rubbed a thumb over Bilbo’s cheekbone.  
  
“I would not have you come to harm for all the gold in Erebor,” Thorin murmured, and Bilbo sighed and turned his cheek into Thorin’s hand.  
  
“That’s sweet, but you are not sending me back to Beorn.”  
  
It was incredible really, how fast Thorin’s expression could go from tender to mulish. (Was it treason to compare a king with a mule? If that was the case; too bad.)  
  
“I was not going to suggest that,” Thorin said, looking very dignified and affronted. (Though still mulish.) Bilbo just barely managed to hold back a snort. He should probably be extremely thankful that he hadn’t met Thorin when he’d been about Fíli’s and Kíli’s age. (Ignoring the fact that Bilbo hadn’t yet been born until Thorin was about twice that age.) A young Thorin Oakenshield would probably have been even more stubborn, mulish and completely and ridiculously lovely.  
  
“I don’t want you to come to harm any more than you want me to come to harm,” Bilbo said and graciously pretended not to notice the hand that had migrated down from his cheek to cover the place on his neck where the Goblin bite was located. “And no matter what you say, I’ve not been in danger any more than anyone else in this company.”  
  
Thorin opened his mouth but he wisely closed it again at Bilbo’s glare.

“And Erebor isn’t just gold and treasure,” Bilbo continued and rose up on the balls of his feet so he could touch his forehead to Thorin’s. “It’s a home,” he murmured. “ _Your_ home. And I’ve promised that I will help you get it back. So I’m going to see this quest through to its end regardless of if you like it or not.”

“Whatever did I do to deserve one such as you, Bilbo Baggins?”

For a second Bilbo thought that Thorin was lamenting that he of all Dwarfs had ended up with someone so stubborn (Bilbo had been quite prepared to tell a tale about a pot and a kettle) but when the Hobbit drew from leaning against Thorin back he saw that the look on his Dwarf’s face was not upset as much as it was… _awed_.

“Regardless of what I did,” Thorin continued, and something in his voice made Bilbo want to blush and fidget. “And even if I will never understand it, I will always be thankful for it. I swear to never take you for granted.”

Bilbo had no idea what to say to that. His words; who had always been faithful companions, had completely deserted him.

“I- um, the same. I mean-“ Flustered, Bilbo gave a mental shrug and reached up to tangle his fingers into Thorin’s hair, to pull his head down for a kiss. If his tongue would not co-operate to form words then perhaps this was another way it could make Bilbo’s opinion of Thorin clear.  
  
He wasn’t sure how to kiss in a way that conveyed ‘ _you are a ridiculous Dwarf, but you are my ridiculous Dwarf, and I have never loved anyone like I have loved you and that’s why I’m going along with this Dragon business long after the point where even the most adventurous Hobbit would have packed his things and left’_ but he was prepared to devote quite some time and effort into giving it his best attempt.  
  
When he finally drew back he was pleased to see that Thorin’s eyes were holding a rather dazed look.  
  
“It’s late,” Bilbo murmured. “And since _someone_ made us have dinner while still on the ponies, and since I’m guessing you want to start again early tomorrow morning, it would be prudent to retire for the night.”  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” Thorin said ardently and his hands which had been holding Bilbo’s hips started to make their way towards a more private part of his anatomy.  
  
“We are not alone,” Bilbo protested and pulled on the lock of hair his fingers had curled around. “I meant that we should _sleep_.”  
  
As Bilbo reminded Thorin that there were indeed 12 other Dwarfs, a Wizard and 13 ponies just a short distance from where they were standing (and let’s not forget the possible presence of Beorn) the Dwarf’s eyes widened as if he’d really forgotten this fact. (Bilbo decided to take that as a compliment.)  
  
“Sleep,” Bilbo prompted when Thorin’s hands tightened slightly on his hips.  “Anything else and you’ll be without heirs because both Fíli and Kíli will run away or die of embarrassment. I’ve seen them looking at us and it’s the most uncomfortable happiness I’ve ever seen.”  
  
“Someone who shall not be named is talking about dying again,” Thorin muttered, but allowed himself to be led towards the rest of the company placidly enough.  
  
-  
  
Much later, so much later that it was actually early – the sun hadn’t yet started to creep over the horizon, but it was probably not that far off – Thorin lay beside Bilbo on their bedrolls. He’d woken up but had been unable to get back to sleep, and he didn’t want to move and wake his Hobbit who had thrown one arm and one leg over him in the night.  
  
He probably could have moved away if he wanted, in his sleep Bilbo still thought that he was back in the Shire and would not wake easily or with much grace. (This Thorin had made ample use of earlier, during the period of his relationship with Bilbo which shall go down in history as the ‘Sneaky coat placement’ period.) But Thorin didn’t really want to move, so instead he just laid there, letting his eyes sweep over the face that had quickly become so very beloved.

In sleep Bilbo almost looked young enough to make Thorin feel guilty. He barely looked older than Fíli or Kíli. The Dwarf frowned as he realised that he didn’t actually know Bilbo’s age.  
  
He knew that Hobbits lived longer than Men. He just wasn't clear on how long exactly that was. His people had never really dealt with Hobbits before, so there had been little cause to know such things.

If Bilbo had been a Dwarf Thorin would have estimated his age to be anywhere between 100 and 150. Clearly an adult, but not older than Thorin himself was. There was no grey in Bilbo’s hair, and though he had a few lines in his face they were not overly many, nor very deep. In moments such as this when Bilbo slept they all but disappeared.

Unfortunately (though not really because Thorin was partial to Bilbo just the way he was) Bilbo was not a Dwarf, so Thorin didn’t really know what to make of his age. He had to ask Bilbo about it later.

The first rays of sunlight had just started to lighten the eastern sky when Bilbo stirred. Sleepy hazel eyes gazed blearily up into Thorin’s.

“Are you-“ Bilbo yawned. “Are you watching me sleep? _Again_ I might add since it’s not the first time I’ve found you watching me.”

Thorin nodded, a bit guiltily. Bilbo’s tone of voice suggested that this was not proper. Perhaps Hobbits had some strange custom regarding what to do or not to do when your lover was asleep. But what harm could looking be?

“That's-“ Bilbo yawned again and to Thorin’s regret moved until he was no longer slumped partially over him.  “Why?”

“I like looking at you,” Thorin stated simply and stroked a hand through Bilbo’s curls to rest it against the softness of Bilbo’s cheek. “I couldn’t sleep, but I didn’t really mind.”  
  
“Ridiculous Dwarf,” Bilbo murmured. “It’s so dark still; I don’t even know what you think you will be able to see.”  
  
“A treasure worth more than all the gold in the world,” Thorin said quietly and below his palm he could feel Bilbo’s hand heating.  
  
“It’s much, _much_ , too early for you to be so, so-“ Bilbo scrambled for a word that wouldn’t come. “It’s unfair, that’s what it is.”  
  
“Unfair?” Thorin questioned. “Why is it unfair of me to tell you how much I love you?”  
  
“Because I really need to go… see a bush, and now I really don’t want to get up.” While Thorin was still stuck on the bush part of that comment Bilbo pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and scrambled to his feet.  
  
“Wait, I’ll go with you,” Thorin said, sitting up. There were many dangers that could lurk on an unsuspecting Hobbit, best if-  
  
“You are not going to join me as I _make water_ ,” Bilbo hissed. “Get that out of your mind right away.”  
  
“But-” Thorin protested, because what did that matter at this point. He already knew Bilbo much more intimately than that.  
  
“ _No_ ,” Bilbo said firmly and Thorin sighed.  
  
“I already know what you look like completely without clothes,” he argued. "And I would say that I know that particular part of you fairly well."  
  
“But you’ve not seen me do _that_ , have you? No, you have not.”  
  
“So you would rather risk coming to harm than having me watch you urinate?” Thorin asked bluntly.  
  
Bilbo floundered for a moment. “I think I can avoid both of those, thank you very much. Go talk to Dwalin instead, I can see he’s on watch.” The Hobbit squirmed. “Because now I really have to go.” With that Bilbo scurried off and Thorin sighed again before getting to his feet.  
  
“I’m pretty sure Kings are not supposed to be ordered around by their Burglars,” he complained half-heartedly to his friend. Dwalin snorted and shook his head.  
  
“Well, there’s nothing in the contract about sharing a bed with them either,” he said matter-of-factly. “Best learn to live with it.”  
  
“I fear I already have,” Thorin said and could not stop a smile from lurking at the edge of his mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The summary almost was "Thorin wants to go with Bilbo when he pees" but I stopped myself. Just barely.


	60. The Breaking Of The, Erm, Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many farewells, lots of mutterings, and those who have read the novel will recognize a fair bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, everything you recognize is very likely to belong to Tolkien. If you haven't read the book then even the bits you don't recognize are likely to belong to Tolkien.

The next day they started before dawn, much to the chagrin of Kíli who looked like he’d been having fairly disturbing nightmares. Or maybe it was just the remains of watching Thorin and Bilbo try and locate each other’s tonsils. Or not watching as it were, but just _knowing_ was fairly stressing; Fíli could vouch for that, and Kíli had always been a bit more… delicate. (Something Fíli would never say to his brother because he rather favoured his beard, not to mention his life.)  
  
As soon as the sun came up they could see the first glimpses of the forest. Fíli did not like it. It looked like it was lying in wait for them; looming in the distance, black and vast. It was nothing like the cheerful woods of the Shire where even a Dwarf could find some comfort in the emerald green leaves and strong and sturdy tree trunks. All trees Fíli could see now appeared twisted and almost menacing. He could only hope that it was the distance that gave this impression and not reality.  
  
-  
  
It wasn’t the distance.  
  
As they drew closer the flat land finally begun to slope upward, but neither Ori nor Glóin seemed much cheered about this fact. Perhaps it had something to do with how the further up they got the more silent everything became. And it wasn’t just amongst the members of the company that silence had fallen. Even the birds had shut their beaks, and the insects no longer buzzed.

“I do not like this,” Fíli said to Bofur as they started nearing the edge of the forest. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved to be a Dwarf and not an Elf. Imagine living in _that_.”  
  
“I hear you,” Bofur agreed. "It will be interesting to try and sleep with that looming over you, I'd take a mountain any day."  
  
“It’s like a big black frowning wall,” Bilbo said gloomily from behind them and Fíli could only agree.  
  
The tree trunks were massive with twisted branches that to Fíli seemed to resemble grasping hands. The leaves were green, sure, but they were a dark, dark green, and there was not even a hint of cheerfulness about the colour.  
  
“Well, this is Mirkwood,” Gandalf said once they all had stopped and dismounted from their ponies. “The greatest of the Northern forests. I hope you like the look of it.”  
  
As one, the Dwarfs and Hobbit turned to stare incredulously at the Wizard.  
  
“Now,” Gandalf continued. “The time has come for you to say farewell to our four legged friends.”  
  
Fíli’s pony gave him a friendly nudge and snuffled loudly into his face.  
  
“Yeah, I’m going to miss you too,” Fíli said and stroked the pony’s soft nose. “Thank you for the ride. And when you get a foal, be sure to name him in my honour.” The pony glanced towards Bofur's pony before hurridly jerking her head back. Annoyed she thumped her head on Fíli's and snorted.  
  
"Unluckily for you that's how friends greet each other amongst Dwarfs," Fíli teased. He leaned in to press his forehead against the fuzzy one in front of him. "Be safe," he said.  
  
“Perhaps they’d want to join us for a bit longer,” Glóin suggested as he surreptitiously snuck the one he had been riding a large piece of bread. The warrior had become rather fond of his mount, not that he would admit to it.  
  
“Yes,” Nori agreed, and from the look on the thief's face Fíli figured that if he could, then Nori would have shoved his pony into a pocket and made off with it. Gandalf also saw Nori’s expression, but did not find it as amusing as Fíli did.  
  
“Do not try to convince them to come with you,” the Wizard said sternly. “Beorn would not take kindly to you getting his friends into trouble.”  
  
“It’s not trouble,” Nori protested. “It’s an adventure.”  
  
“A noble quest,” Glóin filled in.  
  
Fíli and his pony exchanged an exasperated look.  
  
“You promised that you would send them back once you reached Mirkwood,” Gandalf said with a glare towards Thorin who was busy furtively watching Bilbo with a wary look on his face, glancing towards the murky forest every so often.  
  
Fíli and his pony exchanged another exasperated look.  
  
“Beorn is not as far off as you seem to think!” Gandalf thundered over Nori’s and Glóin’s continued arguments. “Stop trying to convince your ponies to go along. You do not want to make an enemy of Beorn. It would seem that Bilbo’s eyes are sharper than yours, if you have managed to miss the sight of a great big bear following us, night after night.”  
  
“Is that true?” Fíli heard Bofur whisper to his pony, who nodded. Fíli looked towards Bilbo who looked guilty.  
  
“Beorn may be your friend, but he loves his animals like his children,” Gandalf went on to say.  
  
“So what about _your_ horse,” Thorin said, appearing to have pulled himself away from his pastime of Hobbit-watching. “ You don’t mention sending that back.”

“I don’t, because I am not sending it.”

“What about _your_ promise then?” Glóin said with an attitude of immense righteousness crowdning around him.

“You let me worry about that,” Gandalf said testily. ”But as I’m not entering the forest here I would rather benefit from his company a while longer.”  
  
More than one face fell at the reminder that Gandalf would soon take his leave. But just as when they had first learnt of his plans, nothing would change his mind.  
  
All arguments over – though Glóin still had a very stubborn look on his face – there was little else to do but start to unpack the ponies’ saddle bags and prepare to enter Mirkwood.  
  
“Thorin I can barely feel that I’m wearing a pack,” Bilbo said impatiently. “I can carry a great deal more than this.”  
  
Seeing Thorin look shifty was an altogether new experience for Fíli. A rather strange one.  
  
“It is heavy enough,” his uncle said, and managed to avoid meeting Bilbo’s eyes since he was still standing behind the Hobbit, fastening the last straps holding the pack. “Besides," he added absentmindely. "Before long I expect we shall all wish our packs heavier, when the food begins to run short.” Then Thorin seemed to have realised what he was saying because he quickly backtracked. “What I mean is-“  
  
“Thorin-” Bilbo sighed. “Nevermind, just give me my fair share to carry.”  
  
Perhaps it was nothing to laugh at, but Fíli still had to supress a snicker.  
  
In the end the blond Dwarf rather suspected that Bilbo still ended up with a much lighter load then the rest of them, but to be fair, Hobbits were not Dwarfs, and considering that every single one of them could probably carry _Bilbo_ without too much problem their burglar probably got at least close to his share of the supplied to carry.  
  
They said good-bye to their ponies again; Glóin looking gloomily and Nori attempting to appear completely unruffled by the farewell (he failed, badly).  
  
In silence they watched them turn around to head back to Beorn. Fíli noted that his and Bofur’s pony trotted along side by side, and he wished them all the happiness that they surely were owed after putting up with the lot of them for several days. Still, perhaps they would meet again someday under better circumstances.  
  
And then came the time to say farewell to Gandalf. Thorin had switched his glancing from between Bilbo and the forest to glancing between Bilbo and Gandalf’s horse. It was fairly evident that he was entertaining thoughts about somehow managing to get Bilbo onto the horse and away from the forest.  
  
It was not a particularly good plan; for a variety of reasons, but even putting aside the objections Bilbo would make it was still not a good plan. After all, Gandalf was also going to enter Mirkwood, just not at the same place as the rest of them. So the reprieve would be only temporary.

“Don’t stray of the path,” the Wizard told Thorin. “If you do there is a great risk that you may never find it again, and that could easily lead to no one ever finding _you_ again.”  
  
“Do we really have to go through?” Bilbo asked and Fíli could _see_ Thorin’s plans to put their burglar on the horse spring into life once more.  
  
“I don’t know how you else think you are going to get to the other side,” Gandalf admonished. “And I would not have thought that you would back out now, Bilbo Baggins.”

“No! No,” Bilbo protested. “I didn’t mean that. I was just wondering, is there no way _around_? Something safer than-” the Hobbit waved his hands towards the looming start of the forest. “ _That_?”  
  
“There are no safe paths in this part of the world,” Gandalf said quietly. “If you go North you will end up walking straight into the Grey Mountains, and they are ripe with Goblins, Orcs and possibly even less charitable creatures.”  
  
“Why can’t we go south then, with you?” Bilbo asked.  
  
“Because to be completely honest with you, my boy, I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to keep myself safe during this path I have chosen.”  
  
Fíli didn’t know how old Gandalf was, but at the moment most of those years were evident on his face. The Wizard bent and whispered something into Bilbo’s ear and the Hobbit nodded resolutely before throwing his arms around Gandalf’s waist in a fierce hug.  
  
“Keep to the path,” Gandalf advised Thorin again when Bilbo had pulled back, the Hobbiy wiping at the corner of one eyes with a determined look on his face. “And when you arrive on the other side, I hope that Smaug is not expecting you.”  
  
“You are very comforting,” Thorin said stiffly (and sarcastically). “But I thank you, for your aid.”  
  
“One can never know about such things as these, but I think we shall meet again, Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf replied and mounted his horse. “And perhaps I may still help you then. But until then, good-bye and farewell.”

With that the Wizard and his horse turned and galloped away.  
  
“It can’t be worse than the Misty Mountains,” Bofur said, ever cheerful. Then he quickly had to duck as Óin, Dwalin, Nori and even Bombur threw tufts of grass and sticks at his head, telling him to stop challenging their good fortune.  
  
“But it’s not like we’re going to be captured by Goblins again,” he protested and Fíli gathered him close and very kindly, lovingly and gently told him to shut up.  
  
After everyone had finished muttering about this and that. And after they had all filled their water-skins in a spring that Ori had found just a short distance away from the forest gate. And after they had all shouldered their packs. After all of that, they went into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Gandalf whispered:  
> “Will you look after all these Dwarfs for me, Bilbo? I think that after I’m gone they will need someone to do so.”
> 
>  
> 
> 60 CHAPTERS! This is insane. I hope you know that, and thanks for reading. (this is so going to end up the fandom's longest story before I'm done... okay maybe not, because I think there's one who is double the size of this, and surely it won't come to that... maybe...)


	61. The Woods Are Not Lovely, But They Are Dark And Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Kíli has more bright ideas concerning Hobbits and everyone wants to be somewhere else than Mirkwood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might as well say it already now, to those of you who haven't read the book, the next couple of chapters, including this, will include mention, or the presence of, spiders. I hate spiders, but I know some like them even less than I do. So fair warning.
> 
> This chappie only has passing mention of them, but yeah, it's going to get worse.

“I _really_ don’t like this,” Fíli said.  And that was putting it mildly. To be in Mirkwood was possibly even worse than being captured by Goblins, not that he was going to actually say that out loud unlike some Dwarfs he could mention…

Sure, there were no actual Goblins, but there was a striking similarity between the Goblin tunnels and the gloomy, dark  _tunnel_ they were currently walking through. Yes ‘ _tunnel_ ’, because that’s the only word Fíli could find to describe the path through the forest even though they were not actually underground.  
  
They had kept to the path, which was narrow and winding, and now it was their fifth day in the forest, and about their third day without the slightest glimpse of the sun.  
  
Dwarfs were used to being beneath stone and earth, of not seeing the sun for days, but it was strange walking through a forest and not being able to see even a sliver of the sky. Just green. Green, green and more green. And did he mention the green? This was probably similar to what Balin had been talking about with the sea, only green and not blue. Even the trunks of the trees were green with moss, only hints of brown peeking out every so often.  
  
Perhaps there were indeed things that were not green inside the forest, except of course for the members of the company, but if so the gloom turned them invisible. The lack of sun really made the forest live up to its name of Mirkwood… but as mentioned, Dwarfs did well enough in the dark and dusk.  Hobbits on the other hand…  
  
Bilbo would probably not take kindly to being likened to a flower but that was what he currently resembled. A flower wilting after too long of being kept in the dark. Add to that that they were all careful not to have too much water as Beorn had warned them that they would not be able to find much fresh water inside the forest and there you had it, wilting flower indeed.

After a lifetime of being Kíli’s brother it had stopped surprising Fíli when he learnt that Kíli’s thoughts moved much like his own did. And it had also stopped surprising him when Kíli’s thoughts always went that extra distance and turned into something uniquely… Kíli.

“Do you think Hobbits are part flowers?” Kíli asked and Fíli sighed. He couldn’t see his brother because they walked in a single file, but he didn’t need to see him to know of the pondering expression he was wearing.

“Is this another egg thing?” he asked. “Because if it is, I don’t want to be part of it. Bilbo are welcome to yell at you, but leave me out of it.”

“I’m serious,” Kíli persisted. “It would explain why they don’t wear shoes; they need to stay connected to the ground like a flower has too with its roots. And thtat's also why they all live in the ground. Dwarfs were made out of stone and we live in mountains after all.”  
  
“They don’t wear shoes because they don’t need to,” Fíli explained. “And _please_ leave me out of it if you’re going to suggest to Bilbo that he’s made out of dirt.”  
  
“There’s nothing wrong with dirt.” Fíli could hear Kíli scraping one foot along the leaf covered ground. “In fact I’d be glad to see some dirt right now. Brown lovely dirt.”  
  
“That I can agree on,” Fíli said with another sigh.  
  
“Hey, didn’t the Lady create Hobbits? I think I remember Balin talking about that.”  
  
“Yavanna created the animals and the plants,” Fíli said. “Not Hobbits.”  
  
“Ah, but what if Hobbits are part plant?”  
  
“So your argument is now that they are part plant because they are part plant?” Fíli shook his head. “Do not let Balin hear you or he will have Master Farim’s beard for not teaching you to argue your case better.”  
  
“I’ll have you know that Master Farim told me I was a very good presenter,” Kíli sniffed.  
  
“You’re not acting like it.”  
  
“Dwalin,” Kíli called and in front of Fíli Dwalin turned his head to gaze at them. “Wouldn’t you say that I can be very convincing?”  
  
“Hobbits aren’t plants,” Dwalin replied and seemed to consider the matter settled. Kíli pouted. Oh, Fíli still couldn’t see his brother, he just knew.  
  
“Take that as a warning to keep your voice down,” Fíli said and looked to where Bilbo was walking just in front of Thorin, almomst at the front of their procession. And hadn’t that been a _lovely_ experience, watching Thorin try and divide himself into two people so that he could be both in front and behind Bilbo all at once. In the end he’d settled for walking behind their burglar to be able to actually see him, and instead it was Balin, followed by Dori, who led the company. (And it was also them who were going to answer to Thorin should anything come from the front with the intent to snag a Hobbit.)  
  
“Being like a plant isn’t insulting,” Kíli grumbled. “Well, unless you’re Ori I guess. And it would be poetic if Mahal’s wife had made Hobbits.”  
  
“Poetic?”  
  
“Or something. Fitting at least.” Kíli hummed. "Not that I've actually heard of a Dwarf and Hobbit courting before, but better late than never."  
  
“Well, she didn’t. I think Eru created Hobbits about when he created Men. That’s why they refer to themselves as Big People and Little People.”  
  
After that they walked in silence for a while.  
  
“But Hobbits _really_ like plants. Haven’t you heard Bilbo talk about his tomatoes?”  
  
“First of all,” Fíli raised his hand with one finger pointing upwards. “Elves also like plants. Elves were not made by the Lady Yavanna. Secondly," Another finger. "I really like a nice, well-roasted steak, I’m not made of steak.” He thought for a few moments before rising the next finger. “Thirdly… if Hobbits were plants, wouldn’t them _eating_ plants be rather… strange?”

“I didn’t say that they _were_ plants,” Kíli sulked. “Only part plant.”  
  
“Ah, so perhaps the Lady only made a small corner of them, that’s what you are saying.”  
  
In front of them Dwalin let out something that sounded suspiciously like a snicker.  
  
“You are supposed to be on my side,” Kíli whined. “Not my brother’s. He has Bofur for that.”  
  
Bofur, who was walking just behind Thorin turned his head at the sound of his name. Fíli smiled at him and shook his head.  
  
“I’m supposed to stand by your side,” Dwalin corrected. “Not always agree with you.”  
  
“You’re not doing either at the moment.”  
  
“Want to switch?” Fíli offered. Kíli had offered to go last, but to be honest, Fíli wouldn’t mind being able to keep his eyes on his little brother, instead of just his ears.  
  
“Doesn’t matter,” Kíli said. “Besides, we’ll be stopping soon anyway. It’s getting dark.”  
  
“Aye,” Dwalin agreed. “Soon we won’t be able to-“  
  
Raised voices from the front of their procession made the three of them fall quiet.  
  
“-wait. I’m- don’t want- _huge_!”  
  
“Or just many,” Balin said calmly, voice carrying back to them without problem.  
  
“-not _any_ better,” Bilbo protested.

As those in front of them had stopped, Dwalin, Fíli and Kíli soon caught up with them.  
  
“What’s going on?” Fíli asked, trying to look around Bombur to see the path ahead. It wasn’t the easiest task.  
  
“There are spider webs on both sides of the path,” Balin explained.  
  
“There are _huge_ spider webs on both sides of the path,” came Bilbo’s voice.  
  
“That doesn’t mean that there are huge spiders,” Balin said. “I expect that these roads see very few travellers, and if everyone keeps on the path like we are doing, those spiders will have had plenty of time to manage their webs. Spiders are useful creatures, keeping flies and other insects away.”  
  
“No webs are blocking the path,” Thorin said and thereby ending the discussion that had started about what sort of creatures spiders really were. “We can continue.” And so they did.  
  
As Fíli came to the place where the spider webs hung he could understand the revulsion he had heard in Bilbo’s voice. It didn’t matter that finally there was something that wasn’t green. The cobwebs looked just as menacing as the rest of the forest, and all the more so for the sheer size of them. If they were out to catch flies, then there were really big flies in this forest.  
  
As they walked on, the dark continued to fall, and as soon as they had passed all the webs – “These spiders have altogether too much free time on their hands,” he heard Bilbo complain – and then gone a bite further, it was decided that they would make camp. Or what currently amounted to camp anyway.  
  
They couldn’t start a fire for one. Well, they could, but the result was not particularly pleasant.  
  
To begin with there was the issue of finding something to burn. One might think that would be an easy task what with them being in the middle of a forest, but wood taken from the trees let out an unpleasant, strange smelling smoke when burned, and the same was true for dried branches lying on the ground unless all moss was carefully removed first.  
  
Then, once suitable firewood had been located and the fire had been lit there was the issue of what the fire seemed to attract; moths the size of Fíli’s palms, and even bigger bats that kept shrieking and making dives towards the nearest head. It had been fairly amusing the first time a bat had made someone shriek just as loudly has the bat did, but it quickly grew tedious and since the nights were warm enough they gave up on the idea of fires already on the second night. Instead there was always three people on watch at the same time.  
  
Still, they all settled down, close together as the nights really were almost just as dark as if they’d been underground.  
  
That night as dusk turned into evening Fíli had to revise that thought.  
  
“Did I just go blind,” he said, waving his hand in front of his face. “Or is it _really_ dark tonight?”  
  
“It’s not just you,” Bilbo said morosely. “I lifted my hand in front of my nose just now, but I couldn’t even see it.”  
  
“Aye,” Glóin agreed. “Darker than the inside of a coal mine this.”  
  
There was a rustling sound, a squeak from Bilbo, and Fíli frowned in concern.  
  
“Bilbo?” he asked.  
  
“Thorin, I do not need to be seated in your lap,” their burglar complained.  
  
“Thank _Mahal_ it’s dark,” Kíli murmured and Bilbo sputtered.  
  
“Not like that,” he protested. “Thorin is just being ridiculous.”  
  
“If I cannot see you, this will have to make up for it,” Thorin said. “How else can I keep you safe?”  
  
For once Fíli rather thought that Thorin’s plan was an extremely good plan, and he would have tried it if only Bofur would not have been sure to object. The blond Dwarf shuffled sidewise until he had Bofur pressed up all along his side, close enough that one of the hat flaps poked him on the side of his head. Then he snaked an arm around the other Dwarf's waist for good measure. Bofur was just as quick to wrap an arm around Fíli’s shoulders, so at least they were both as paranoid  
  
“Perhaps we should light a fire after all,” Dori suggested.  
  
“Any ideas on how we’re going to find wood?” Nori asked his brother.  
  
“There is still some in my pack,” Dwalin said. “I thought it might be useful. If I can just find- Kíli let go-“  
  
“What was _that_?” Bilbo said suddenly, yelping again when Thorin’s arms must have tightened around him.  
  
“What did you see?” Fíli’s uncle asked, voice apprehensive.  
  
“I- there was something that gleamed. I thought- There it was again!”  
  
Bilbo was surely pointing somewhere, unfortunately they couldn’t see it.  
  
“In what direction?” Balin prompted. “From where you are sitting, where was it?”  
  
“Just a little to my right and then maybe fifty feet or so in front of me. I think. Telling the distance in the dark is not particularly easy.”  
  
Fíli turned his head to look in the direction he at least thought that Bilbo meant. He saw the same amount of nothing he’d seen before turning his head.  
  
“Have I mentioned today how  very much I don’t like this place,” he murmured to Bofur.  
  
“Only a dozen or so times. I thought you were perhaps finally warming up to it.”  
  
Fíli snorted. Then he saw it. Or rather, _them_. Though technically, they were bound to belong to an ‘it’.  
  
“Are those _eyes_?” he asked hand finding the hilt of one if the swords strappled to his back.  
  
“ _Where_?” everyone asked, but then the eyes, if that was what they had been, had already disappeared.  
  
“Dwalin, light,” Thorin commanded tensely.  
  
“I’m trying,” Dwalin’s voice said. “Funny how it’s hard to use steel and flint when you don’t bloody well see what you’re doing.”  
  
Another few tense minutes and Dwalin had managed to get a small fire going. Which of course meant that the moths showed up.  
  
“Are they lying in wait, just in case someone decides to start a fire?” Dori asked incredulously and Bifur murmured something entirely unpleasant.  
  
Bofur sucked in a breath and his arm around Fíli’s shoulder tightened. “Those are definitely eyes,” he said thickly, and now it was light enough so everyone could see where he was pointing.  
  
Indeed, those were most certainly eyes. But what they belonged to, that was another question entirely. And not one Fíli particularly enjoyed.  
  
“I’m going to get my swords,” Fíli murmured.” So if you could just release me for a few moments.”  
  
Bofur did as he asked, and Fíli soon held the hilt of a sword in each hand.  
  
“There are more, all around us,” Ori said in a strained voice.  
  
“Do not go chasing after them”, Thorin commanded. “But be prepared in case they shall attack. It is not certain they mean us harm.”  
  
Suffice to say, no one got any sleep that night. Whatever the eyes belonged to they didn’t come any closer, but that helped little to ease anyone's mind. Not to mention that just the shrieking from the damned bats and the ever present flapping of moth wings would have been enough on its own to keep Fíli from sleeping.

Fíli really, _really, REALLY_ didn’t like Mirkwood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try my very best to have another chapter before Friday, because then I'll be without computer access for the weekend. In other words, no weekend update next weekend. :(
> 
> Oh, and thanks for all your lovely comments. I always appreciate them. Heh, even if they would not be lovely I'd still appreciate them for that matter, because if I do something weird I'd like to know about it.


	62. Gloom And Doom In Mirkwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things do not get better. But there's not a lot of doom, it just sounded like a good title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even if you're not reading my other WIP you have to go look at the art dwalinroxxx has made. Either avaialble here: http://dwalinroxxx.tumblr.com/post/56076231980/do-you-think-we-ever-would-have-met-if-you 
> 
> or in the first chapter of the story. It's pretty much the most amazing thing ever.

Fíli _hated_ Mirkwood.  
  
Any minute now he was going to shout something about how _lucky_ it was that they had not been captured by Goblins, and this time around the mention would be to deliberately tempt fate. Compared to trudging through this forsaken forest _anything_ was the better option. And come to think of it, by getting captured by the Goblins they had actually ended up with a short cut to the eastern side of the Misty Mountains. Perhaps their luck would still hold up? Or maybe it was just wishful thinking…  
  
There had been a brief instant during the night when Fíli _almost_ could have fallen asleep, but then he happened to look up to find a pair of red eyes glaring down from a branch above his head and for some strange reason sleep would not come after that. In fact he might have arranged himself to lie mostly on top of Bofur just in case those red eyes were attached to something that would think handsome miners with adorable hats tasted delicious.  
  
Kíli had apparently spent the night plotting against the black squirrels that could occasionally be seen scurrying from tree to tree because he wasted arrow after arrow before Thorin finally told him to stop. Ironically, the very last arrow that Kíli let fly hit its target and a skewered squirrel hit the ground the very second after Thorin had finished speaking.  
  
“I got one!” Kíli cheered and in front of Fíli Bifur slowly clapped his hands and snorted in amusement. The sharp sudden sound of clapping made Bilbo jerk his head up and blink repeatedly as if just having woken up. Flower or not, out of the company their burglar continued to be the one who seemed the most ill-suited for this part of the quest, physically at least.  
  
(Here Fíli conveniently forgot just who had practically fallen asleep mid-meal after the Eagles had dropped them off at the Carrock. Let’s just say that it was a blond Dwarf and leave it at that, no names or anything… Let’s also not mention that Bilbo might have spent the last few nights not getting as much sleep as he should have. We’ll still not mention any names but let’s turn our eyes to a certain king who looks just a little too good without clothes.)  
  
The path had widened some, enough for them to walk two and two (with the exception of Bombur) instead of just in a single file, and unsurprisingly a certain ~~king~~ uncle could be found walking next to Bilbo.  
  
“I would not mind carrying you,” Thorin said quietly and Bilbo turned his head to glare at him. Even though Fíli just got a glance of his face he could clearly see how exhausted the Hobbit looked.  
  
“My legs are perfectly functional.” At that same moment Bilbo finished speaking he stumbled over a tree root. “Not one word,” he threatened after regaining his balance, aided by Thorin.  
  
“You would not be a burden,” Thorin said stubbornly. “I don’t see why you would not allow me to help you.”  
  
“Because you want to _carry_ me,” Bilbo said. “How would you feel like if I-“ he fell silent. “I need a better example than me carrying you, because I do not believe that’s physically possible.”  
  
“I allowed you to help me when Azog had-”  
  
Bilbo stared at Thorin. “You were _unconscious_. Hardly in a position to allow anyone anything.”  
  
“You got to smear honey on him!” Kíli called out. “Few people can say that they’ve done that. In fact you might be the only one.” His brother had picked up his dead squirrel and was looking at it curiously. “I’m pretty sure squirrels are not supposed to have fangs,” he said, but he still wrapped it in some cloth and put it away in his pack.  
  
“Never mind that, can we eat it?” Bombur said from behind Fíli. Bofur, who was walking next to Fíli turned his head.  
  
“You hate squirrel,” he reminded his brother. “Said it tasted strangely.”  
  
“Well they do,” Bombur admitted. “But I’m hungry and I’ve seen the state of our supplies.”  
  
He had a point. They had supplies for perhaps ten more days, and while that certainly didn’t sound all that bad none of them had any idea of much longer they would have to wander through the forest. Beorn had never said… Still, Fíli figured that the Shifter probably wouldn’t have sent them off to starve to death, so the amount of supplies was probably proportionate to the time they would have to spend in the forest. (Fíli did not like that he felt the need to use the word _probably_. Twice.)  
  
“If you are objecting to the thought of _me_ carrying you I’m sure that Dori or Dwalin would volunteer themselves.” Thorin’s tone of voice managed to convey that Dori and Dwalin would do best to volunteer themselves, while at the same time made it clear that they better not like it too much. Dori sniffed, offended by the very notion (the bit about liking it) and Dwalin just rolled his eyes.  
  
“Perhaps you need to borrow Óin’s ear trumpet after all,” Bilbo said sweetly but with a core of steel beneath the amiable tone. “Or perhaps someone can fashion you a pair of eyeglasses. The state of my legs have hardly deteriorated in the last three minutes.”  
  
“Please?” Thorin said, sounding rather hopeful, and Fíli observed his uncle’s shoulder’s slump when Bilbo shook his head.  
  
“If someone wants to carry me I’m all for it!” Nori called.  
  
“Am I the only one who can hear water?” Ori asked. “I guess so,” he continued when no one answered him.  
  
“I hear _something_ ,” Glóin said, and when Fíli turned to look at him the bushy haired Dwarf was squinting into the distance as if that would help him hear better.  
  
“I think our young scribe is right,” Balin said after a few moments. “That does sounds like water.”  
  
“If there is any justice in the world, it would be a repeat of the hot springs,” Nori muttered.  
  
It was not. But perhaps justice had just been a bit preoccupied at the time of Nori’s request. Or at least so Fíli hoped. Though hope fell when the blond Dwarf got a closer look at the river, for it was indeed a river that they had come across.  
  
“I think this might be what Beorn meant when he said that the water we found would not be safe to drink,” Dori said.  
  
The path had suddenly widened considerably, leading to an open area perhaps the size of Beorn’s main hall. At the end of the space, where the doors to the kitchen should have been, there was a river. A black river. And not just a river that appeared dark due to the poor sources of light in the forest. The water actually seemed to be _black_.  
  
“Yeah, I’m not drinking that,” Kíli said as he stopped by the river bank, his tone suspicious, as if someone had tried to trick him into taking a sip.

“There are the remains of a bridge over here,” Nori called, and the company all flocked to him where he stood next to some rotten wooden posts.  
  
“This is clearly the works of Elves,” Glóin huffed, leaving Fíli wondering if he meant that the bridge was no more due to the shoddy craft of the Elves, or because the Elves had actually destroyed it.

“Is that a boat?” Bilbo suddenly said, pointing towards the bank on the other side of the river. “Just our luck that it’s not on this side.”  
  
“How far away do you think it is?” Thorin asked peering out over the river, hand on Bilbo's shoulder. Apprently they both had forgotten all about the previous argument because Bilbo's hand came up to settle on Thorin's.  
  
Dusk had already begun to fall, and while Fíli could indeed see that there was something vaguely boat shaped on the other side of the river, it could just as easily have been a rock.  
  
“Not that far," Bilbo said slowly. "Maybe just about twelve yards.”  
  
“So,” Bofur said. “Anyone feeling up for a swim?”  
  
“No,” Thorin said. “I do not believe that is something we want to do. If we should not drink the water I hardly would think that bathing in it is any wiser. And it seems to be too deep to wade in.”

“Do we have a rope?” Bilbo asked. “It looks like the boat is just drawn up on the bank, if we could somehow-“  
  
“ _Oh_.” Bifur snapped his fingers and shrugged off his pack. It had been secured to the strap around his shoulders with two large iron hooks, and he worked one of them loose and waved it about. “ _Time to fish_ ,” he said.  
  
“Fíli,” Thorin said as Bifur and Bofur secured the hook to the rope. “Will you throw it?”  
  
“Of course, uncle,” Fíli replied, feeling pleased that Thorin trusted him with the task.

Fíli took the rope from Bofur once the hook had been deemed to be tightly fastened. He balanced it for a moment, and then flung it across the stream.

With a splash it fell into the river, but since Fíli had kept hold of the other end he could easily just gather it back up again.  
  
“Not far enough,” said Bilbo helpfully.  
  
“Oh really,” Fíli muttered. “Perhaps I need a hearing aid and eyeglasses as much as my uncle does, because I had _no_ idea that I missed.” As his hands touched the wet parts of the rope he stared at them dubiously. It felt like normal water, but it certainly didn’t look like it. Still, nothing bad happened so he continued gathering up the rope.  
  
The second attempt was a success and the hook landed right in the middle of the boat. The rest of the Dwarfs gave a short cheer and Fíli pulled the rope back slowly, hoping that the hook would catch at something on the boat. Indeed it did, because he had barely begun to pull before the rope went taut. There was another cheer, but even shorter than first one because as much as Fíli pulled, the boat wouldn’t move.  
  
It took the combined effort of Fíli, Kíli, Óin and Glóin to pull the boat loose from whatever held it, and while their attempt was successful it still ended with all four of them landing on their backsides as the boat suddenly moved and took them by surprise. Still, they managed to get the boat over to their side of the river without too much trouble.  
  
“I’ll cross first,” Thorin said. “Bilbo and Fíli, Balin, you’ll come with me. I think four is as many as the boat will hold at one time. Bombur-”  
  
“I know, I know,” the Dwarf sulked. “I’ll go last. But next time it’s someone else’s turn to go last.”  
  
“Um, I can’t see any oars,” Bilbo said, and everyone turned to look at him.  
  
“Bifur you had another hook, yes?” Fíli asked. “If we also have another rope I can throw it across and aim at one of the trees. That way we can use it to pull ourselves across, and as long as the other hook is secured to the boat the rest of you can then just pull it back.”  
  
“Finally the trees will serve some sort of purpose,” Dori muttered.  
  
The plan worked like a charm and it was not long after that the entire company was on the other side of the river, Dwalin and Bombur being the last one across. Dwalin had just stepped out of the boat; Bombur preparing to follow (still grumbling about discrimination), and that’s when things went wrong.  
  
Out of the gloom sprang suddenly a deer, missing the company with just a few inches as it jumped over their heads. Dashing towards the river, the animal gathered itself for a leap, but as it landed on the other side so did Kíli’s arrow land in its side.  
  
“Dinner,” he said as the deer stumbled and then fell onto the ground. “Is served.”  
  
They all startled a bit at a sudden splash.  
  
“Bombur has fallen in!” Bilbo cried as he started to run towards the river. Fíli turned his gaze towards the boat and at first he couldn’t even see Bombur. Then he saw something red bobbing on the surface of the water and he realised that it was Bombur’s _braid_.  
  
“Bombur!” Bofur gasped, darting forward.  
  
“Dwalin,” Thorin barked. “Get the hook and rope from the boat and throw it to him.”  
  
Luck hadn’t abandoned them after all, because as Dwalin threw the rope Bombur’s hand actually came up from the water and caught hold of it. Bofur was the first one to reach Dwalin and help him pull Bombur to shore, but not the last one, and with a combined effort they managed to get him out of the water.  
  
“Bombur!” Bofur’s eyes were wide and worried because Bombur wasn’t moving. “ _Bombur_!”  
  
“He’s still breathing,” Óin said gruffly from where he was kneeling by Bombur’s side.  
  
“It looks, it looks like he’s asleep,” Ori said tentatively. And indeed, asleep was what Bombur seemed to be.  
  
“Magic,” Thorin said darkly when nothing they did succeeded in rousing Bombur. “There must be a spell placed on the water.”  
  
Fíli took Bofur’s hand and squeezed it with his own.” It’ll be all right,” he promised. “He’ll wake up soon enough and you’ll wish that he went back to sleep again so that you can get some peace and quiet.”  
  
Bofur’s attempt at a smile could be described as half-hearted at best, and his hand clung tightly to Fíli’s. Bifur came up to stand beside them, placing his hand on Bofur’s shoulder.  
  
“I’m going to get the deer,” Dwalin said after a while, gathering up the rope that they had almost not been able to get back from Bombur, despite being asleep he had been clutching very tight indeed.  
  
“What, no!” Kíli protested. “What if you fall in?”  
  
“I won’t,” Dwalin said.  
  
“But what if you do,” Kíli said gloomily. “What if-“  
  
In the distance came the sound of dogs barking and someone, or perhaps several people, blowing horns. They all fell silent, hardly daring to move, but no hunting party appeared.  
  
“I really hope that Wargs have not learnt to bark,” Glóin muttered.  
  
“Those were Elven horns,” Balin said quietly. “We must be getting close to their domain.”  
  
“Oh, joy,” Fíli and Kíli said, exchanging a weary glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you sometime next week peeps, as I said in the last chapter, no weekend update.


	63. Sad Bofur Is Sad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We interrupt this fic for an important announcement.  
> You *have* to go read diemarysues' fic I Must Follow A Star  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/868061
> 
> She's just uploaded the last chapter and the story is so awesome.

They made camp not far from the river for two reasons. First of those was that it had started to get dark, and despite that the eyes from the night before hadn’t actually done anything everyone felt that a fire was probably for the best. (Not to mention that walking around in complete darkness was just stupid)  
  
The second reason was that no one really wanted to carry Bombur very far. Now that was _also_ for two reasons, the first and most obvious was that Bombur was very heavy. No kidding, it took six of them to carry him. The second was that everyone knew that unless he woke up during the night they would have no choice but to carry him all the next day, or for however long it would take him to wake up. (Fíli made sure to glare pointedly at everyone who seemed about to suggest that Bombur might not wake-up, but glares couldn't actually alter reality.)

The deer that Kíli had shot and Dwalin had managed to retrieve without falling into the river ( _“Kíli, stop telling me I really mustn’t fall in or I’ll end up falling because you keep distracting me.” “Okay... just don’t fall in!” “Mahal have mercy…_ ”) made a nice dinner, but it didn’t do very much to lift the mood. It was different to have an enemy who you could actually fight, but what could you do against a forest? (" _We could always burn it." ""Good idea!" Glóin, that is the stupidest thing you've ever said. And Ori, I thought better of you." "What?" "Have you not realised that we're in the forest?" "Oh..."_ )  
  
Fíli didn’t know what to do. Even Bofur was looking like someone had… well… as if a river had spelled his brother into a magical sleep…  
  
Okay, so it wasn’t really a mystery why Bofur was so upset, but it still killed Fíli not to be able to do anything about it. Even the flaps on Bofur’s hat seemed more droopy than normal, and the ends of his moustache hung limply.  
  
One of the moths flapping around settled on one the flaps, but the next second one of the bats had swooped down to snatch it. Bofur didn’t even blink.  
  
It made Fíli want to go and hit something, but unfortunately he had the feeling that going back to the river to smack the water would be the very definition of the word futile. While it might make him feel the tiniest bit better it wouldn't help Bofur.  
  
His love was sitting with his back against Bombur’s belly, seeming to draw comfort from feeling the steady rise and fall of his brother's breathing, and Fíli sat next to Bofur, because where else would he be.  
  
On Bofur’s other side was Bifur, who was muttering darkly into his beard. Fíli couldn’t quite make out what he was saying; not because Bifur was talking too quietly, but simply because he couldn’t really understand it, but it didn’t sound like he was offering up compliments.  
  
“I don’t think this is going to be edible after all,” Kíli said, poking at the squirrel he’d just finished roasting. “It stinks.”  
  
“Give it here,” Glóin demanded. “I’ll be the judge of that. I’m sure I’ve had worse.”  
  
“Don’t blame me,” said Kíli as he handed Glóin the stick with the squirrel. “It smells almost as bad as the Trolls did. And I do mean the actual Trolls, not just their cooking.”  
  
The red-headed Dwarf took a bite, and immediately spat it back out. “That is the foulest thing I have ever tasted,” he exclaimed. “I almost think it would be worth the cost of sleep to go down to the river and thoroughly wash my mouth out.”  
  
“It can’t be that bad,” Óin argued as he made a grabby motion with his hand. “You’ve always had a weak stomach. Let me try.”  
  
But he didn’t fare any better.  
  
“Mahal’s hairy _balls_ ,” the healer swore. He wiped his tongue on his cloak and grimaced. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that turned out to be poisonous.” Óin pulled the squirrel off the stick and threw it out into the darkness surrounding their camp. A few moments passed, then the squirrel came flying back out of the trees, hitting Glóin in the face.  
  
“Curse this forest!” he roared.  
  
“Too late,” Nori said with a wry smile. “And I dare say someone with a great deal more blackness in their heart got here before you.”  
  
“You really think this forest is cursed, Nori?” Ori asked while shifting a little closer to Dori.  
  
“I’m not going to lie to you Ori,” Nori said, glaring at Dori when he sniffed disdainfully. “Hey, I’ve never lied to the two of you, so quit that.” Dori did, even looking a little sorry, but in his stead Dwalin snorted disbelievingly.  
  
“This is not the time to squabble amongst ourselves,” Thorin said firmly, frowning in Dwalin’s direction. Fíli felt a rush of affection and admiration for his uncle.  
  
Not only because he’d managed to stop the argument before it really had started, but he'd also managed to pull off a very regal command whilst having his arms full of sleeping Hobbit. A lightly snoring sleeping Hobbit at that.  
  
After dinner Bilbo had curled up next to Thorin and almost instantly fallen asleep. The expression on Thorin’s face when he noticed was a rather complicated story.  
  
Part smugness; because he’d _known_ that Bilbo really was tired,  part pride; (actually, maybe three or four parts pride) because Bilbo obviously trusted Thorin to keep him safe while he slept, and then a whole lot of disbelief and worry because how could Bilbo just fall asleep like that when there was danger everywhere and how was Thorin supposed to take care of him if those eyes (and there were many of them) turned out to have sinister intentions?  
  
All those feelings seemed to have led Thorin to one conclusion, and that in turn led Bilbo to being scooped up and cradled in Thorin’s lap as Thorin kept one hand on Orcrist.  
  
Amazingly, their burglar didn’t wake, he just sighed and turned his face into Thorin’s neck, squirming a bit to get comfortable. (What _that_ made Thorin’s face do Fíli was still repressing to the best of his abilities.)  
  
Then in the distance came the sounds of horns again, this time sounding further away than they had previously.  
  
“No wonder the forest it cursed,” Glóin muttered. “It has Elves living in it .”  
  
“We should try to get some sleep,” Thorin said when none had spoken for a while, everyone listening to hear if the horns would come closer. “But I think half of our numbers should be on watch while the other half sleeps, and then we will switch.”  
  
Fíli glanced at a pair of eyes hovering just outside of the circle of light from their fire. “I’ll take the first watch,” he offered. “Try to sleep if you can,” he added and squeezed Bofur’s hand. The corner of the other Dwarf’s mouth twitched.  
  
“I’d say Bombur is doing enough of that for all of us.”  
  
Bifur grunted in agreement, but still pulled on Bofur’s shoulder until his cousin was lying down beside Bombur.  
  
“Have you noticed I’m not a child anymore?” Bofur asked when Bifur started stroking his back like one would a restless toddler. Fíli couldn’t help but smile when Bifur made a shushing sound and patted Bofur’s hat.  
  
“What if the eyes are just eyes?” Kíli said. “I mean, what if they’re not really attached to anything? Would that make things better or worse?”  
  
"As long as they're not Elves," Glóin muttered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try my best to get a longer update in this weekend!


	64. Interlude - Hatventures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We interrupt out regularly (well...) scheduled fic for something a little... different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Then again, what was normal about this story in the first place, eh?

It's an easy life, _most_ days anyway. I can't say I’m overly fond of rainy days and sometimes there are a lot of rainy days. Rain is very wet, if you didn't know. Going on quests to reclaim a kingdom where we’ve never been and possibly getting incinerated by a dragon, that’s not very fun either. But since Bofur was going what choice did I have? It’s not like I’m ever going to voluntarily leave him. And that’s why I’m here with him and the rest in the strangest forest I’ve ever seen, trying not to panic. (THERE ARE _MOTHS._ MILLIONS OF MOTHS _._ )  To avoid panicking I try to think of more pleasant things.

Like windy days. Windy days are fun, it almost makes me feel like I'm flying when I'm flapping about. If I had the chance to be anything else I probably would pick a bird. Seems like a lot of fun. (And I could still sit on Bofur’s head whenever I wanted. And eat moths. That’d be nice.)

Wind is also good for other things, redistributing blame for example.

After Fíli's watch had ended he curled up behind Bofur who, in his sleep, had moved around to rest his head against Bombur's stomach.

Seeing the opportunity, I let one of my flaps brush against Fíli’s cheek, just briefly, like the wind had moved me. Thorin, still on watch (I think he sleeps even less than I do) noticed the movement and glances over in our direction. I was perfectly still. Nothing to see here, nothing but an ordinary (though extraordinary   _handsome_ ) hat. You must be mistaken if you thought you saw something strange.

And it worked. Thorin looks away. It _always_ works.  
  
For some reason people don't expect us hats to be moving around on our own. Not even us extraordinary handsome ones.  

Even Bofur doesn't know this about me, not even after all this time. I've thought about telling him, but... Well, I can't talk. That rather puts a wrinkle in the fabric as we hats say.  
  
Besides, it's probably best if he doesn't know. I'd be kicked out of the HATS Society (Hats' Always Top Secret Society) if someone knew that _he_ knew. And that'd be embarrassing.  
  
Gandalf's hat would never let me forget it. Though I think he's managed to tell the Wizard about himself somehow, ruddy cheater that he is. Like he's above the rules just because he spends his days on the head of a Wizard. It's not like _he_ 's the magical one. He can’t do any more spells than I can, and zero added to zero is as far as I know still a whole lot of _no_ magic at all.  
  
But does that stop him from being uppity? Nope. And he also doesn’t like it when I move. But it’s not like I move a lot, so I think he should just stay out of it. Grrr… Okay, happy thoughts or I might end up tearing a stich. Happy thoughts… _Haaaappy_ thoughts.

Fíli snuffles in his sleep and rubs his cheek against me. That works. I feel calmer already.  
  
He's got a nice head on his shoulders, that one, quite literally. (And he doesn't drool either, which is fortunate as I _really_ dislike being wet.) I don't mind him wearing me either, I actually rather like it... Oh, I still like Bofur best of all, no question about that, but when Fíli puts me on I get all hot inside. Which at least has the benefit of keeping his head warm and cosy.  
  
I’ll admit that I didn’t feel this way at the start. It’s hard to like someone who threatens to throw you into a fire just because Bofur won’t stop calling him ‘lad’. But by the time Bofur placed me on his head when they were cleaning themselves at the foot of the Carrock... I had come around. I like how he presses his forehead against me when he kisses Bofur. It’s… nice. And so is he. As I said, I don’t mind him wearing me and that's something of a big thing for me.  
  
Fíli respects that I belong with Bofur, but I think he also understands it. (Though I think it’s a bit rude of Bofur to blurt out that we _both_ love Fíli. While it might not be _untrue_ I prefer to make such admissions myself. After I’ve figured out how to do so without speaking... Oh, moving on.)  
  
When Bombur has tried to wear me I've pinched his ears. Nothing personal, but he just doesn't know how to treat a hat. His touch has never made me feel warm and tingly like Fíli’s has, or like I’m the best, most precious hat in the whole world like Bofur always makes me feel. Bombur is always a little too rough, and he _never_ asks Bofur before grabbing at me.

Though I still doesn't want Bombur to be trapped in a magical sleep, and not only because it hurts Bofur and makes him very distracted. (There was a _moth_. And it was _sitting_ on me and Bofur did _nothing_! Ahhh! I never thought I'd be grateful to a bat.)  
  
At the end of the day I like Bombur too. It's hard not to really, after seeing him grow up. You could even say that as he grew up, he grew on me too. At first in a manner similar to a fungus, but he’s got a good heart, so it turned out to be a nice fungus.  
  
Not many would believe me if I told them how tiny he once was. He could almost fit entirely inside me. Not that Bofur tried, but still, that's how small he was. Strange business that is, the whole growing thing. But I guess not all beings can be created just the way they are meant to be like us hats. I don’t hold it against them, they still do their best to grow into something more worthwhile.

Everyone in the company is pretty decent people, and wasn’t that a nice surprise. I was a little disappointed at first that there was no other hats around (Gandalf’s doesn’t count, he’s too boring to be considered good company) but I get by. I spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to be a better hat for Bofur.  
  
All we hats really want is for our person to be happy. I can admit to slightly higher aspirations. I want Bofur to be happy, and to still have me on his head.  
  
Since I’ve not told him about me, he doesn’t know I’m not just the average hat. Or, he knows I’m not an average hat, but he doesn’t know that I’m _really_ not an average hat. Except that he pretty much knows that too… Hmmm. Let me try it from another angle.

Not all hats are like me; just the ones that are especially loved. This is how I know that Bofur loves me,, but since he doesn’t know that I can do a bit more than just sit on his head and look handsome he doesn’t love me like he would another person. Like he loves Fíli, or Bombur, or Bifur. That’s fine, I understand. I’m not about to tear myself up about it.  
  
Us hats, we love unconditionally. And that’s what so amazing about Bofur, he does that too. I could not wish for a better Dwarf to belong to.  
  
I know he’d never misplace me, or forget about me. No, if we are parted it is for much more sinister reasons. Or just because someone has borrowed us. (Which, if it’s Fíli, is just a pleasant change.)  
  
Anyway, if the worst should happen and I have to sacrifice myself for Bofur or someone he loves, I’d be all right with that. But it’s not something I’d want to happen, and that's why I'm devoting much of my time to figuring out ways to prevent such things.  
  
It’s not always very easy. Actually, it’s _never_ very easy.  
  
Sometimes I wish I was a helmet and not just a hat. I do try to make myself as stiff and unyielding ass possible when danger lurks, but there’s only so much I can do. And at night I try to make myself as fluffy and comfortable as possible, but I'm no pillow either. I try to stay cool when it’s hot, and hot when it’s cool.  
  
All in all I like to think I do a good job. But there are days when it’s hard to just be a hat. Days when everyone is stuck in a miserable forest and Bombur is enchanted. Though I imagine it’s not easy being a Dwarf either on those days. Or a Hobbit for that matter. And Fíli looks just as miserable as I feel for not being able to do anything to help.

Days have gone by now since Bombur fell into the river. At least I think it’s only days. Sometimes it's hard for me to tell just exactly how much time goes by.  
  
I don't eat, and I only sleep when I'm really, really tired. You’d think that the latter would make me extraordinarily capable of telling the time, but it’s just the opposite as all days rather tend to blur into one another. Especially when you can’t see the sun and the nights are a never ending terror of MOTHS.

However long it’s been, they've had to carry Bombur along as he’s still sleeping and everyone is looking worn and tired. They’ve still got food left, but it doesn’t seem to be a great deal. And now they’re talking about sending the Hobbit up into the trees to find to have a look around. Better him than me, there are sure to be thousands and thousands of moths lurking about in those trees. All waiting for a delicious piece of hat to come by so that they can lay their eggs in me. Oh the horror… I shiver in fear, and Bofur distractedly scratches at me.  
  
“I can go,” Kíli offers. “I bet those branches can hold me.”  
  
“It makes more sense if I go,” Bilbo says with a sigh. “I’m the lightest of us.” Well, except for me he’s right. And I’m not going.  
  
Thorin and Dwalin exchange a look. They don’t look happy. No one looks happy, except for Bombur who looks like he’s got very nice dreams.  
  
In the end Bilbo is the one to go, and he comes back down with good and bad news. The good news is that there were no moths, only butterflies. The bad news is that all he could see except for said butterflies was just more trees. It doesn’t make anyone look happier.  
  
That night Bofur and Fíli sit together without talking. They’re not upset, well at least not at each other, but they don’t like being in the forest. I could not agree more. Fíli places a hand against the side of Bofur’s face, running his fingers along my edge. The way that makes me feel, I can’t help but arch into it. Thankfully Bofur does the same. (Glare at someone else, Gandalf’s hat!)

“It’ll get better.”  
  
Bofur sighs and doesn’t reply. It breaks my metaphorical heart to have him be this sad. (Of course I don't have a real heart, where would it be?) Still, when Fíli leans forward to press his forehead against me, and a kiss against Bofur’s lips, I do have to admit to feeling a little better. And it seems to work on Bofur too.  
  
“See,” Fíli says with a small smile. “That’s better.”  
  
"I had the loveliest dream," Bombur suddenly moans. "And I wake only to see you swap spit with someone you just met? Cruel, cruel world.  And this has to be the completely wrong time to decide that you’re going to be -"

"Bombur!" Bofur exclaims, scrambling away from Fíli to throw his arms (as best as he can) around Bombur's chest. I end up being pressed to Bombur’s chin has he bewilderedly wraps his arms around Bofur in turn. "You're awake again!"

"Where are we?” he asks when Bofur pulls back. “The last thing I remember is going to bed at the Hobbit’s place, and unless my eyes deceive me we are not there anymore."  
  
I look around. Evil looking trees, evil looking moss (and who knew that even was possible), and is it's night; the evillest of moths swooshing around above our heads.

No _kidding_ we're not in the Shire anymore.  
  
"You don't remember?" Bofur asks, voice full of concern. He probably wonders what other side affects there can be from falling into an enchanted river.  
  
"I don't know what I don't remember," Bombur says. "But no, I don't remember. But I know I'm hungry. Is it time for dinner?"  
  
Ah. I think Bombur will be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Bofur's hat has a crush on Fíli. And it is scared of moths. Go figure. 
> 
> I really don't know what this chapter iiiiiiiiis /o\ And I really don't know why the hat wanted this bit to be written completely different from how I write everything else, but whatever. Just go with it.
> 
> But let me know what you thought about this, *please*. At least if you'd be interested in something similar again cause I probably won't dare to write it unless enough of you say that it's not too stupid. OR if you indeed thought it was too stupid and want to make sure I avoid it in the future tell me. I need to know! :O


	65. You Are Only As Old As Someone Else Makes You Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author promises that she will do her best to actually write something that has plot in the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the plot you are looking for... But jump to the end notes for my film reviews ;)

“I think we've missed Thorin's day of birth,” Kíli remarked as they trudged through the seemingly never ending forest.  
   
“What is the current date?” Fíli asked, having no idea even what time of day it currently was. The light in Mirkwood only seemed to change when night fell, apart from that remaining a constant eerie grey, and since they had begun to cut down on rations they no longer could count on their bodies to tell them when it was noon and time for a break and some food.  
   
“I don't know. Hence the reason for my suspicion.”  
  
Thorin had apparently overheard their conversation because he called back that they should not concern themselves about such small matters.  
  
“I rather think it’s more pleasant to think about such matters compared to how light my pack is beginning to get,” Kíli muttered.  
  
Fíli sighed. He agreed with his brother. The news Bilbo had brought them from his venture up to the tree tops had not been particularly heartening. It seemed that they would be stuck in the forest for far longer than their provisions would allow, not to mention their water supply which was even more meagre. They needed to come up with a plan.  
   
Bombur, who had recovered well enough from the amnesia brought on him by the enchanted river, also seemed to think that the lack of food was not something they ought to dwell on (understandable since the last thing the large Dwarf remembered of their quest was the feast they’d share in Bilbo’s home, compared to that even the most plentiful of rations made a sad sight).  
  
“Come now, O’King,” he called. “Just because you’ve already had 194 celebrations already, the 195th is not something to just overlook. I think I am the only one to have cause to forget it.”  
  
“You’re, you’re 195 years old?” The person who asked that question was of course none other than their dear burglar.  
  
Fíli and Bofur exchanged a wary look as they remembered a much earlier discussion about ages and how best to not talk about the differences that could be found between them.  
  
“Or just 194,” Kíli said helpfully. “As we’re not sure.”  
  
“That’s not helpful at all,” Fíli hissed to his brother.  
  
Thankfully Bilbo seemed only to need a few moments to digest this new information before coming to the conclusion that it was not worth becoming upset about. Fíli knew that there was a reason why he liked Bilbo.  
  
“Well, that’s normal I guess” the Hobbit shrugged and Fíli had just begun to relax again when:. “I guess I already knew that you were all a lot older than me anyway, so it’s not that much of a surprise.”  
  
“ _’All_ a lot older _’_?” Thorin echoed. “I was meaning to ask before, but how many years have you seen?”  
  
This was bad. Well, on the scale where bad was having almost no food or water, or where bad was a dragon, this wasn’t _particularly_ bad, but it certainly wasn’t good either. There clearly needed to be more than one scale of bad in the world.  
  
“This will be my 51 st,” Bilbo replied cheerfully as he had apparently forgotten everything Fíli and Bofur had told him about not traumatizing certain people.  
  
Thorin stopped abruptly. Abruptly enough that Bilbo walked into his back, and those amongst the company who hadn’t known, or who knew very little about Hobbits on the whole, also looked shocked. Fíli contemplated leaving the path and running into the forest because how bad could _that_ be? If he got lost he could just listen to the sound of Thorin's mind exploding. That would surely be hard to miss.  
  
“Fifty?” Thorin said in a strangled voice.  
  
“Fifty-one,” Bilbo pointed out and Fíli swallowed another ‘that’s not helpful’ hiss. Their Hobbit sounded a bit more weary now, so perhaps he had remembered that Ori was still considered quite young and he was a good twenty years older.  
  
A moment passed, and another, and then Thorin began to move forward once more, the rest of the company following behind.  
  
When a minute had passed and Thorin still hadn’t said anything Kíli nudged Fíli with his elbow.  
  
“Do you think Bilbo broke Uncle Thorin’s mind?” he whispered. “He is being awfully quiet.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Fíli murmured. “But I think we ought to-“  
  
“I’ll have you all know that Hobbits come of age on our 33 rd birthday,” Bilbo said to no one and everyone. “So I’m not in any way a child, or even a tween, and if anyone would think to say such a thing they are going to end up as bald as Dwalin’s head.”  
   
Again, a certain air of ‘what did I just hear?’ settled over the company. Eventually Dwalin cleared his throat.  
  
“Does that mean that I can say-“  
  
“Not if you favour your beard,” Bilbo said and while his tone was friendly the set of his jaw was not.  
  
“ _I_ favour his beard,” Kíli interjected. “So please leave it alone.”  
  
Thorin still did not say a word. And so it went for about another hour. Then suddenly:  
  
“ _Fifty_?!?” Thorin said and as one the rest of the company sighed.  
  
“He’s not going to do anything to Uncle’s hair, is he?” Fíli said quietly to Bofur. “I mean, I think Bilbo likes it  more than Thorin does for one. I’ve seen how he looks at it. I'm not so sure about the beard though.”  
  
“Yes, fifty,” Bilbo said, having given up on the one. “This is less than 195 to be sure, so if you entertained any notion that I was your elder I’m afraid you’ll just have to live with the disappointment.”  
  
“Or live without his hair,” Bombur chuckled, immediately getting shushed at by half the company.  
  
“Or you could always go and court an Elf,” Bilbo added. “Even their youngest should-“  
  
“I’ll thank you for not putting such images in my head,” Thorin said surly and Bilbo sniffed.  
  
“Well, don’t imply that I’m not old enough for you then.”  
  
“To be fair, lad,” Balin said. “Thorin hasn’t really said anything of the sort.” The ‘yet’, was left carefully unsaid.  
  
“Ah, my apologies then,” Bilbo said. “So the repetition of my age should merely be interpreted as if your king has some trouble with his numbers?” Immediately after speaking Bilbo looked contrite. “No, I am sorry, that was not called for.”  
  
“The suggestion about Elves was frankly more troubling,” Thorin said wryly, but at Bilbo’s dejected look he sighed and took their burglar’s hand. “Not merely because it concerned Elves, but also because there is none other in this world except you that I could imagine having by my side. Age is but a number.”  
  
“Well then,” Bombur said just when Fíli contemplated looking away from what was sure to be an embarassing (for him and Kíli at least) sight. “Aren’t we lucky we didn’t try this quest when our burglar was only twenty. That would have been a mess.”  
  
Fíli sighed. The forest away from the path was looking more and more tempting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have just seen Pacific Rim and it is full of pseudo science, they laugh in the face of physics, there's at least one plot hole at least as big as a kaiju, way too much green screen, and it's definitely, without doubt, an extremely awesome film. 
> 
> Top three for me this year, no question about it, will watch again, and I deeply recommend it.  
> Fuck, I'd watch it again just for the soundtrack, which might be on in the background even as I'm writing this...
> 
> Elysium on the other hand I give a meh. Nothing particularly exciting, too much heavy handed morals. (Not enough giant robots... *looks innocent*) When the thing I was most fascinated by was how much the younger version of Matt Damon's character looked like Matt Damon you know I wasn't particularly impressed. ;)
> 
> Here endeth the film review.


	66. Itsy Bitsy Spider...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein there are spiders. Enough said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is plot!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and extra thanks to those who drops a comment. Clearly this story likes words, so it’s pleased to have a few extra to keep it company. ;)

Their supplies were quickly running out. They were still trudging through Mirkwood without an end in sight. It was raining. Not enough so that they could fill their rather empty water skins, but enough that everything felt damp, cold and unpleasant. And the spider webs were back.   
  
On the plus side: the horrific eyes that kept staring at them during the nights still hadn’t attacked. And… that was it for the plus side Fíli supposed. Seeing as the positive news were not really abundant, he wasn’t very surprised when Bombur suddenly sat down on the edge of the path.  
  
“Time for a little break, lads,” he gasped, sounding very out of breath. “My legs are currently debating whether they want to continue to be attached to me, so I’m going to have to give them some time to make up their minds.”  
  
Fíli, and pretty much all of the other members of the company, looked towards Thorin who sighed.  
  
“I know we are all tired, but we will not get out of this forest by not moving forward.”  
  
“With all due respect,” Bombur said as he rubbed at his fleshy thighs. “So far we’ve not really gotten _out_ of it by moving forward either.”   
  
“Bombur,” Bofur chided. “It’s not going to be dark for hours yet, we can’t stay here.”  
  
“I beg to differ.” Bombur looked around. “I seem to be doing a pretty good job of it.”  
  
“What was that?” Balin said, looking ahead.  
  
“Master Balin,” Bombur huffed. “I’ll have you know that I’ve not fallen for a trick like that since I was about the size of my ladle. You might as well tell me that I should remain sitting in an attempt to make me want to do the opposite. It won’t-”  
  
“No, lad,” Balin said. “I thought I saw a twinkle of light in the forest.”  
  
Fíli looked towards where Balin was pointing, he didn’t see any- _Oh_.  
  
“There are lots of them!” Kíli exclaimed. And there were indeed. Off in the distance about a dozen or so golden little lights were shining out from the ever present gloom of Mirkwood.  
  
“But, what are they?” Dori asked, and no one had an answer to give him.  
  
“Kíli and I can go ahead and scout,” Fíli offered, but Thorin shook his head.  
  
“No, we should not split up while we are still inside this accursed forest,” he said. “We will all continue along the path until we are closer to whatever is responsible for the lights.” He paused and reached back to draw Orcrist from its scabbard. “Ready yourselves, just in case.”  
  
“At least mine is not glowing blue,” Bilbo murmured looking at his little blade. “So no Orcs or Goblins.”  
  
Fíli winced. Please, please, please could Bilbo stop saying things like that.  
  
“Nah,” Nori said. “I’m betting it’s Elves. We did hear their horns earlier.”  
  
“I’ll take that bet!” Glóin said and slapped Nori on the back. “That is not the torches of a hunting party, and I don’t see why even Elves would want to spend any time in this forsaken forest unless it’s necessary.”  
  
-  
  
It turned out to be Elves. Of course it did.  
  
“Why do you keep taking his bets?” Fíli hissed to Glóin. “How do you even have any coin left on you?”

“I have to win sooner or later,” Glóin hissed back.  
  
“No, you don’t.” Fíli shook his head. “You _really_ don’t.”  
  
“We’ll see,” Glóin said good-naturedly. “As for the coin I have in fact already lost all that I carried to Master Nori. But I’ve sworn on my honour that we will settle things as soon as I’m able.”

Fíli looked to Nori, who was obviously eavesdropping on their conversation.  
  
“He's good for it,” Nori shrugged.

“The way I see it, my lad, either we'll succeed and I will be one of the richest dwarfs in Middle Earth with one fourteenth of the treasure, or we'll fail and then I think it won't matter one way or another how much gold I owe Nori. The dead care little for gold after all.”

Gloin was grinning as he finished. As if he was saying something he found particularly funny.

Fíli blinked. “I- but, you.” He sighed. “Never mind, Master Glóin.”  
  
“They have food!”   
  
Everyone immediately hissed at Bombur to be quiet. Luckily enough, they still seemed to be far enough away from the Elves not to be easily overheard.

“They are _Elves_ ,” Dwalin reminded.

“Who cares. Food!” Bombur insisted.

“They probably only have green food anyway,” Ori said morosely.   
  
“And I repeat, who cares,” Bombur said. “Our supplies are almost gone and it’s not like we’ve been dining on meat anyway lately. I still don’t remember this Beorn person, but I have half-a-mind to tell him a thing or two about how to treat guests, should I ever see him again.”  
  
“Trust me,” Bofur murmured. “You don’t want to do that.”

“It does not matter,” Thorin said. “Elves or not, food or not, we should not leave the path.”   
  
The chatter stopped as they thought back on Beorn’s and Gandalf’s warnings. From the path; where they all were gathered, they could look into a clearing where a dozen or so Elves were gathered around a fire, in the middle of a meal. They were almost too far away to be spotted through the ever present gloom that hung in Mirkwood, and were it not for the many sources of light the Elves had brought it would be possible that the Company would just have passed by without seeing them.  
  
The lights they had spotted earlier were the many torches the Elves had put up around the perimeter of the clearing. Fíli noticed that by doing this they managed to actually keep the moths and bats away from their fire as the creatures were distracted and halted already at the torches and did not then venture further. Elves or not, Fíli did admire that idea.  
  
“However,” Thorin continued. “If the Elves are out having a damned picnic we cannot be far from their home. And from that it is not far to the edge of the forest. We just need to keep East.”

“And which way is east?” Bombur asked, looking sullen now that the food and rest was again off the table. “We’ve not seen the sun for days, are we really sure that the path will keep going East? That we’ve gone East at all?”

Fíli glanced in Bilbo’s direction, and he was not alone. Their Hobbit noticed that he was suddenly the focus of attention and heaved a sigh.

“Fine,” he said. “Up in a tree I go. At least I might get to see those butterflies again. They were quite beautiful.”  
  
They continued on for a little while longer, just far enough to make sure that the Elves should not accidentally stumble on them or overhear them.  
  
As Thorin drew Bilbo to the side, doubtlessly to demand that he would not fall down, or be carried away by the previously mentioned butterflies, or do something else Thorin would not approve of, Fíli wrapped his arms around Bofur’s waist, having first sheathed his swords again of course.  
  
“What will we do if we’ve not actually been going East?” Fíli murmured. “As Uncle said, it’s not like we ought to leave the path.”  
  
“I don’t think Beorn would have directed us to a path that would take us astray,” Bofur said as he gently carded his hands through Fíli’s, admittedly rather messy, hair. His braids were likely a disgrace. “My turn to say that things will be fine,” Bofur smiled and gently knocked their heads together.  
  
“Thank you,” Fíli sighed and leaned in to rest his head on Bofur’s shoulder. He sniffed. “You smell like forest,” he mock-complained. He hadn't really noticed before, but instead of Bofur’s normal, familiar scent he smelled of leaves and strangeness.  
  
“Oh, I wonder why,” Bofur said, feigning surprise. “Can it be something I ate?”  
  
“If wesmell like the things we eat then it’s good you didn’t try that squirrel,” Fíli said and pressed a quick kiss to Bofur’s mouth. “Hmm, nothing wrong with the way you taste.”  
  
Bofur chuckled. “That is a very inappropriate thing to say considering that my brother has just lamented the lack of edible things in our supplies.”  
  
“He can’t have you anyway,” Fíli sniffed. “You’re my betrothed.”  
  
“Called dibs have you?”  
  
Fíli stole another kiss. “Indeed.”  
  
“If you are quite done at being sickeningly sweet,” Kíli interrupted. “I’d like a word with my brother.”  
  
“We were actually talking about Fíli eating me,” Bofur said innocently. “But by all means.” And with another quick kiss he was off to try and cheer up Bombur.  
  
“So,” Kíli said with a shudder. “I’m not sure if he was talking about something you’d do together in bed or actually about you eating him, and I’m not sure which one I find more disgusting.”  
  
“You are just a prude, little brother,” Fíli teased.  
  
“Imagine Dwalin kissing my chest, slowly moving downward to-“  
  
“Thank you,” Fíli winced. “That’s quite enough, point taken. What did you wish to speak about?”  
  
By this point Bilbo had already begun climbing a tree as Thorin hovered on the ground below him. Their little burglar seemed more confident this time and he was soon out of sight.  
  
“The spider webs,” Kíli explained with a frown. “I already talked to Dwalin about them, and he agreed with me. So I’d thought I’d tell Thorin, but-“ they looked over at their uncle. “I’m not sure how good of a listener he is as long as Bilbo’s feet are too many feet off the ground.”  
  
“What about the webs?” Fíli asked.  
  
“I noticed that there was something different about them,” Kíli clarified. “Compared to the ones we saw before I mean. Those had leaves and even branches stuck in them. But these,” Kíli glanced upwards. “These don’t. At first I was thinking that the Elves might have done it-”  
  
“Wait a moment,” Fíli requested, feeling confused. “Are you suggesting that the Elves are cleaning the spider webs?” Sure, Elves were notoriously strange about things like that, Rivendell had been incredibly neat (well, at least until certain Dwarfs had started breaking furniture) but cleaning spider webs just because they had to be near-by had to be some sort of record. Either in Elvish strangeness or just in Kíli strangeness as he was the one who suggested it...   
  
“Well no, not anymore,” Kíli said. “Because I think it’s due to that these are newer. The leaves haven’t yet had time to fall and be caught.”  
  
“If the webs are new,” Fíli said slowly. “Then-“  
  
“Then the spider that has woven them is not far gone,” Kíli finished. “And while I’m hoping that Balin’s previous suggestion about many, many small spiders is correct, that’s a rather poor thing to hope for even so.”  
  
Fíli hummed in agreement.  
  
Suddenly Bifur shouted. The brothers swivelled to where they’d last seen him. He wasn’t there. But in his place was the largest spider Fíli had seen in his life.   
  
It was easily the size of one of Beorn’s ponies. When Bifur shouted again Fíli managed to pinpoint his whereabouts. For some reason Bifur seemed to have left the path and now stood perhaps ten feet or so away from the trail, fighting another one of the giant spiders. Strangely, the spider just by the path _didn’t_ attack Ori who was standing just a few feet away, instead choosing to turn around and go after Bifur.  
  
Fíli swore and drew his blades, out of the corner of his eye he saw Kíli do the same. The rest of the company had of course also heard Bifur’s shout and as one the Company came rushing to his aid.  
  
Unfortunately things did not go quite according to plan.   
  
Fíli had only gotten half-way to where Bifur was fighting when two more spiders dropped down in front of him. If the first two had been pony sized, these were easily the size of horses. Fíli cursed again, even more creatively this time.  
  
“Kíli, switch to your bow instead,” Thorin called out. “Don’t go near them unless you have to.”  
  
“I. Hate. This. Bloody. Forest.” Fíli muttered darkly as he swung his swords.  
  
Unexpectedly he felt a sharp sting at the back of his shoulder. Then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am Evil. Or not (read the tags!), because there is an interlude coming right after this. Bilbo and Thorin POV.  
> If it's not posted when you read this it will be within the next ten minutes.


	67. Interlude - Down Came The Rain... Erm... Or Burglar?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Bilbo is not a happy camper. And Thorin has also had better days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2nd chapter posted today, make sure you've read the 1st

Bilbo stuck his head up into the fresh air and breathed deeply.  
  
Sadly, there were no butterflies at the tree tops this time around. But that mattered little as Bilbo, unlike the last climb, could see exactly where the forest ended, and it wasn’t particularly far off. Perhaps another few days, perhaps even less. Nothing they couldn’t manage. The Hobbit smiled to himself and turned his face into the light from the setting sun.  
  
However, his joy was short-lived.  
  
As he carefully started climbing down again (really, there was no need for Thorin to ask him to be careful, Bilbo quite liked _not_ being a gooey pile on the ground, thank you very much, so it was unnecessary regardless of how endearing it was to watch Thorin try and be diplomatic about basically ordering him not to fall) Bilbo started hearing the sound of a struggle coming from below. Shouts and the whooshing sounds that swords made when they were trying to hit something. He took a moment to check his own sword, but it still wasn’t glowing.  
Could it be the Elves? It would be rather typical if he’d left the Dwarfs alone for five minutes and they somehow managed to get into a scuffle with the Elves. But-

Bilbo froze where he stood on a branch as he saw a moment out of the corner of his eye. _That_ was not an Elf. Not an Elf at all...  
  
Feeling a little lightheaded all of a sudden Bilbo leaned back against the trunk of the tree. That was a giant, huge, enormous _spider_. Shaking his head to clear it Bilbo bit the inside of his cheek, hoping that the pain would help hustle away the fogginess that wanted to seep into his vision. It would not do to faint now. It was not the time, nor the place. It was in fact the worst time and place.

Thankfully it worked and Bilbo was conscious to watch as the spider made its way over the intertwined tree branches, and as it was joined by another spider; this one slightly smaller than the first. Slightly smaller in this case meant that it was only the size of the door to Bag-End; instead of the door to the Mathom-house in Michel Delving. In other words, not really something to cheer about...

Just as the spiders disappeared from his view Bilbo noticed two things. The first was the sudden absence of sound coming from below. The second was that the smaller spider had been carrying something. Or rather, someone, because though the spider’s burden had been well-wrapped in web, he had recognized Bifur’s beard sticking out from a gap in the silk.

To say that neither of these two realisations was good would be the understatement of the Age.  
  
 _I am going to have words with both Gandalf and Beorn the next time I see them_ , Bilbo thought to himself as crept along as quietly as he could over the branches in the same direction as the spiders had gone. _And it won’t be very pleasant words. It’s one thing to say: ‘beware of the dark things living in the forest’. And another entirely to_ not _say ‘and be sure to mind the giant spiders’._  
  
Then Bilbo heard the horns.  
  
-  
  
Thorin was frantic. One by one he’d watched the spiders take his friends, his family, and each time he’d  been too far away to come to their aid. There had been too many spiders between him and Bifur when the toymaker was the first to be taken, and when Fíli collapsed to the ground not even Kíli, who had been only twenty feet away, had managed to reach his brother’s side in time to stop the spiders from spinning their silk around him and carrying him off. There were just to many of them.

And now Thorin was alone with them in the clearing. He couldn’t let himself get poisoned and carried off like the others. He needed to find them and save them. When the spiders had first carried away Bifur, Thorin’s mind had flashed back to when they landed in the Goblin caves.  
  
Again the company was fighting against a foe that had taken them completely by surprise in a vulnerable moment, and again Bilbo was not by his side so that Thorin could protect him. He could only hope that his burglar would fare just as well from this as he’d done in the caves. And that he would have the sense not to rush into the fight as he had done on top of the cliff. This time there would be no Eagles coming to their rescue.  
  
Thorin swore as one of the spiders’ stingers scratched his unprotected fingers. It had broken the skin, and though the wounds were not deep he could already feel how his fingers started to tingle and go numb.

The spiders had backed away when they’d realised that one of them had managed to poison him and now they were just waiting for him to tire and finally succumbed to their venom.  
  
Baring his teeth Thorin jumped forward to try and cut off the leg of the closest spider, and that’s when he heard the horns. _Elves_.  
  
The spiders had noted his distraction and Thorin hissed when one of their stingers again grazed his hand.  
  
This time Orcrist managed to bury itself deep inside the body of one of the creatures, but when Thorin moved to pull his blade back his arms would not obey. Then his legs also gave out and he fell to his knees.  
  
Quick as lightening the spiders gathered around him and started wrapping him up in their webs. Thorin snarled, but he could not fight them, nor could he fight the black spots starting to dance across his vision.  
  
Barely holding onto his consciousness Thorin felt when the spiders started carrying him away. He also felt when he was then abruptly dropped to the ground again. If he could have seen what was happening he would have seen three spiders immediately be killed by a flurry of Elven arrows. Two more fell the very next second.  
  
An undeterminable time later someone shook his shoulder which was again free from webs.  
  
“Dwarf,” a voice demanded. “Were you travelling alone or were there others with you?”  
  
“Not alone,” Thorin managed, before the darkness managed to claim him.  
  
-  
  
Desperately hoping that sound of horns meant that help was on its way (in much the same way Lord Elrond and his warriors had helped when the Company was chased by Orcs) Bilbo continued his pursuit of the spiders. He couldn’t stop, because then he might lose track of where they were going, and who would save poor Bifur then?  
  
The spiders seemed to finally have reached their destination because they started going downwards again, and then the one carrying Bifur stopped to hang him from a branch, making him dangle and sway about three feet off the ground in a small clearing.  
  
After wrapping him in another few layers of web, this time also wrapping up his beard, the spider scuttled away.  
  
It wasn’t just Bifur he’d have to save, Bilbo realised not long after. More spiders appeared, each carrying a cocoon similar to the one Bifur was tangled in. It looked like they had taken the whole company.  
  
Not good. Bilbo took a deep breath. And another. And then another for good measure. And then he started to climb downwards.  
  
Oh what he wouldn’t give for another timely arrival of Gandalf. Or for the Eagles to somehow fly beneath the trees and crush the spiders in their claws. But he couldn’t expect that either of those things would happen. Perhaps not even the Elves would show up, the horns could just mean that they were doing whatever they were doing before when they had last blown the horns.  
  
No, this would likely be up to him. And the worst part was that somewhere in the contract he’d signed there probably was a clause about his responsibilities and obligaitions in the event that the entire company was captured by giant spiders. And once he’d saved them, (Bilbo did not want to think about the other option), someone was going to remark that he should have done it differently. And then he would have to strangle them with their own beard. And wouldn't that be a shame after saving them in the first place?  
  
Just as he was about to jump down onto the ground Bilbo slipped and ended up lying on his back. The fall sparked a memory of another fall and another uncomfortable landing in his back. And about what he carried in his pocket…  
  
The _ring_. Bilbo’s hands flew to the pocket where he’d put it.  
  
“Come now, Bilbo Baggins,” he murmured to himself as he let the ring slip over his finger. “How are you going to face down a Dragon if you can’t handle a couple of spiders?”  
He peeked out from behind the tree. “Okay, so more than a couple, but the point still stands.”  
  
To Bilbo’s extreme, profound and complete surprise the rickety plan he threw together worked like a charm.  
  
The spiders were distracted by the stones he threw at them, and then by the noise he made when he ran around in an attempt to lure them from the Dwarfs; which also worked.  
  
Oh, the spiders were faster than he had expected, and they also seemed very keen on catching him. But Bilbo was a Baggins of Bag-End, and soon enough he’d managed to lead all the spiders away from where they’d left his friends. He felt as if the process had taken years of his life to be sure, but the important part was that it worked.  
  
As quick and quiet as the rabbit Beorn had named him as, Bilbo dashed back to try and free some of his Dwarfs. He’d seen them wriggling before, and if he hadn’t been mistaken, one of them had even snored. (He was willing to bet that it had been Glóin.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you feel this is a less evil place to leave off. Because I really need to go to bed.
> 
> If you are wondering about the differences in this and the last chapter compared to the book, read on:
> 
> No disrespect to Tolkien, obviously I’m a huge fan, but sometimes he doesn’t make a lot of sense. (Or I'm not making sense, but since this is my fanfic, I'm still going to do what I like)
> 
> I can’t buy that we have the Dwarfs wandering about in Mirkwood, miserable place that it is, and they see something shiny in the distance and immediately run after it. What, are they expecting it to be something nice? WHY? Okay, they want to know what it is, but they are not magpies!
> 
> Then they see its Elves, and their first thought is “we should beg for food”. No. No, no, no.  
> I don’t care how starving they are, I don’t see that. Beg is totally a dirty word for them, especially if there are Elves involved. Thorin would rather start gnawing on the trees.
> 
> Then I also don’t see why the Elves would run away (nor why they would have a bloody picnic in a spider infested forest in the first place) and just continue the picnic a short while later. And then repeat. And then they nab Thorin. Gwah.
> 
> Sorry, but I’ve obviously tweaked it, and I hope you’re find with that. And no talking spiders either. If the ponies and dogs couldn’t, the spiders shan’t be allowed either.
> 
> The Dwarfs also spent more time at Beorn’s before leaving, so the dogs had time to provide some extra supplies for them, hence the reason for the company not quite being out of supplies by now.


	68. Captivating Experiences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Fíli makes about as much sense as Kíli usually does (love you Kíli!), and where in Bofur is for once the worrying, rather frantic, one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pats Kíli on the head*  
> No really, I know you can be quite clever. Just not in regards to anything relating to Bilbo. (eggs... plants...) But that's okay in this chapter.

_“Fíli!”_

A voice was calling for him from very far away.  
 __  
“Fíli!”  
  
Really far away. Fíli didn’t really know where he himself was exactly, but it wasn’t anywhere near whoever was calling for him because it sounded like someone was standing on top of the Misty Mountains, shouting down to someone who was just about to start the climb.  
  
Somewhere in Fíli’s mind this thought didn’t make sense. How could he hear the voice, if it was so far away from him? Was it a really loud voice? It didn’t sound like a very loud voice since he barely could hear it. But perhaps even loud voices sounded like quiet voices when they were far away. Or was it a very silent voice coming from near-by?  
  
“This is not the time to sleep, I need you to open your eyes. Bifur, could you go help the others?”  
  
“ _Aye, I will do so with haste_!”  
  
“I’m taking that as a yes. Get Bofur first I think. You’ll see him, the hat is sticking out.”  
  
Sticking out of what? By _Mahal_ , why did his head feel like he’d visited every bar in Ered Luin and then gone back for seconds?  
  
“Fíli. Wake up or I’ll, I’ll chop off one side of your moustache and then you’ll just have to live with being lopsided.”  
  
Fíli didn’t much like this voice. Not only was it rude, it also had to be stupid because couldn’t it see that he was already awake? It also sounded like it was getting a little closer, and he wasn’t sure that that was a good thing. Not if it was going to talk about chopping off things.  
  
“Bofur will probably be fine with it because I’d like to think he’s not the type that’ll care about things like that, but just imagine the amount of teasing Kíli will get out of it once he sees. And Thorin will frown at me for doing it. So wake up!”  
  
“Am ‘wake,” Fíli managed to mutter. He wasn’t sure why talking seemed to be so hard and he was fairly sure that the voice was too far away to hear him, but that was the voice’s problem. It shouldn’t talk to him if it couldn’t hear him.  
  
“I am so glad to hear that,” the voice said, and it did sound pretty pleased, so apparently it could hear him after all. “Bifur wasn’t like this at all. I just had to get rid of that damned cocoon and then he was fine. Or at least I think he’s fine.” There was a pause. “Let’s just say that he seems about as fine as he usually does.”  
  
“Fíli!”  
  
Great, another voice. Though this one sounded familiar, and actually, the more the first one talked, the more Fíli thought that he recognised it as well. It reminded him of something. For some reason an image of a bunny popped into Fíli’s head. That couldn’t be right. Rabbits didn’t talk.  
  
“Did he just say something about rabbits?” This was the second voice. It sounded worried. It sounded like…  
  
“Bofur?”  
  
“Yes, it’s me, love. Now open your eyes.”  
  
But, weren’t his eyes already open? Fíli opened his eyes.  
  
Oh, apparently not. Because now he could see Bofur and he looked as worried as he’d sounded.  
  
“There we go,” Bofur smiled, even if it was a bit wobbly at the corners. “Now I would greatly appreciate it if you and Bombur would stop making me prematurely grey by not waking up. It’s getting quite old.”  
  
“I’m going to help release the others. Thorin is probably not happy,” the first voice said and when Fíli slowly twisted his head (why was everything so slow) he could see a pair of bare feet padding away. _Bilbo_ , Fíli realised. With those feet it couldn’t be anyone else. And since he could see those feet so clearly, he must be lying on the ground. Fíli that was, Bilbo was clearly not lying down.  
  
“What happened?” Fíli tried to sit up but found that while his head thought that it was a brilliant plan, the rest of his body was quite happy ignoring it.  
  
Bofur, wonderful, amazing person that he was, noticed what was happening, or rather _not_ happening, and reached around his back to help Fíli sit up. Getting to a sitting position made Fíli’s head spin even worse than it had the first time he’d looked down on the ground while sitting on the Eagle’s back.  
  
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the spiders,” Bofur said.” Then his eyes widened in horror and Fíli did his best to look around. Was the spiders back? He did remember _something_ about spiders, and it wasn’t particularly pleasant.  
  
“You do remember, don’t you?” Bofur asked, cupping Fíli’s face in his hands, and while his eyes hadn’t quite yet reached the goose egg size Fíli had never seen until he met Bilbo, it was beginning to be a close thing. “You do remember who I am? You said my name. Please tell me that you do, because while there was no river this time you wouldn’t wake up, and I’d not put it beyond this accursed forest to play the same trick twice. And if you’ve forgotten everything that-“  
  
“Bofur,” Fíli said slowly, trying to organize his thoughts into something at least remotely resembling order and then trying to convince his tongue to actually say the words. “Of course I remember you. I’d not forget the Dwarf I’m about to marry.”  
  
Letting out a shuddering sigh Bofur leaned in to press his head against Fíli’s.  
  
“Thank Mahal,” he said. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d not…”  
  
Fíli shook his head, which basically caused him to rub his forehead against Bofur’s hat. And it also made him rather dizzy again.  
  
“I’d never forget-“  
  
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T FIND THORIN!?”  
  
Okay, suddenly whipping your poor head to the side to look at a white-as-chalk Bilbo was not a good idea. Unfortunately Fíli only realised this when dark spots as already dancing in front of his eyes, and just before he passed out.  
  
_  
  
When Fíli next woke up he was both less and more confused than last time. On one hand his mind felt normal again, and not like it was filled with syrup and cotton. But on the other hand he was pretty sure he’d actually lost some memories along the way this time. It was either that or his sanity must have had an accident, because the last thing he remembered was being in Mirkwood, and that certainly didn’t seem to be where he was now.  
  
Fíli stared at the curved stone ceiling above his head. Nope, that didn’t look like trees to him.  
  
They had been attacked by giant spiders, he had been poisoned by one of those spiders and then he didn’t know what had happened before he’d been woken up in a clearing by Bilbo and Bofur. But now he was clearly not in that clearing anymore.  
  
It was not the same stone as in Ered Luin, so he couldn’t be there. This was not really a particularly helpful thought as it would have been rather more practical to know where he was, compared to where he _wasn’t_.

“Fíli! Wake up!”  
  
Now _this_ felt familiar. Though it wasn’t Bofur nor Bilbo- Bilbo?

All of a sudden Fíli remembered that Thorin might be missing, and he abruptly sat up. Immediately after doing so he cringed because he also remembered how sudden movements had worked out for him on the previous attempt, but when no black spots attacked he cautiously looked around.

“You’re awake!”  
  
Seeing Kíli look healthy and decidedly not being a spider snack felt good. Seeing Kíli confined behind what looked to be iron bars felt less so. Realising that he himself was also inside a small cell (with the previously mentioned stone ceiling) was also not a positive feeling.  
  
“By the stone,” Fíli groaned. “What is going on?”  
  
“Remember how before we entered this damned forest Bofur said something about how we couldn’t get captured by Goblins again?”  
  
“Don’t tell me that we’ve been captured by Goblins?” Fíli asked. “Since when do Goblins lock up Dwarfs in a prison? Since when do they even have prisons?”  
  
“It’s not Goblins.” Kíli shook his head. “But apparently these Elves are not as hospitable as the ones in Rivendell.”  
  
“Elves?”  
  
“Indeed,” Kíli sighed. “Shortly after you fainted-“  
  
“Passed out.”  
  
“Fainted, the Elves arrived. To be fair they did help kill the rest of the spiders.”  
  
“And now they’ve captured all of us? What about Thorin, he wasn’t with us before?”  
  
“He’s here now, just in another part of the prison.” Kíli’s mouth twisted unhappily. “And Dwalin is with him, together with Balin. It seems they are interested in what exactly we were doing in the forest and why, and they managed to clue into that those three are probably the ones to ask. Everyone else is here, if you shout for him, Bofur’ll probably hear you, and the Elves leave us mostly alone except during meal times. You have missed three so far. They know who Thorin is, though it doesn’t appear that they know who _we_ are.”  
  
“How do you know all this?” Fíli asked. “Someone is telling you this? Has Nori escaped to spy on them?”  
  
“When I said that everyone else was here that might have been a slight exaggeration,” Kíli said. “But it’s not Nori.”  
  
During their conversation Fíli had moved up from the pallet he’d been lying on and walked up to stand just in front of the iron bars covering also one of the walls to his room. At Kíli’s half-arsed explanation Fíli gripped a bar with each hand and squeezed.  
  
“Brother, it’s been a long day. Or days, even. And I say that without even knowing what time of day it is and how time has passed since our capture; either of them. Please just tell me.”  
  
“Remember Bilbo’s ring? Let’s just say it’s currently getting some good use.”  
  
Fíli blinked.  
  
“So let me get this straight. We’ve been captured by Elves who have some sort of issue with us being in this part of the world. They’ve split us up and are basically interrogating Thorin while our burglar sneaks around, invisible, through  the hallways.”  
  
“Yeah, that sounds more or less correct,” Kíli shrugged. “They took our weapons too. But at least they are feeding us real food and not just the green things.”  
  
“Yes, that’s what’s important,” Fíli said drily.  
  
“You know I didn’t mean it like that, you ass,” Kíli said.  
  
“IS FÍLI AWAKE YET?!” Bofur called and his voice echoed off the walls and bounced enough for Fíli to be unable to tell just exactly which direction it had come from in the first place.  
  
“I’M AWAKE, BOFUR!” The blond Dwarf called back.  
  
“I TOLD YOU TO STOP DOING THAT! HAIR GETTING GREY!”  
  
“SOMEONE WHO TEMPTS FATE ABOUT US GETTING CAPTURED ARE NOT ALLOWED TO THROW ANY STONES,” Kíli shouted. “YOU KNOW THIS IS AT LEAST PARTIALLY YOUR FAULT.”  
  
There was a guilty silence and Fíli turned towards Kíli again.  
  
“So, is there a plan? And how much does Thorin hate that Bilbo is running around on his own?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm basically falling asleep at my computer, so please overlook any mistakes I might have overlooked.


	69. Interlude - The Enemy Of My Enemy Is - WHERE IS THORIN?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the Elves are lucky Bilbo is not in a position to slap some sense into them. (Erm, or maybe that would be for the best.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a bit like this chapter might have ended up a tad confusing, (we're jumping back and forth in the time line) so if that suspicion is correct, feel free to poke me. I'm not sure I can do much about it, but hopefully poking me will make you feel better. (seriously though, if there's something you end up not understanding I've obviously done a crap job explaining, so let me know)

“You are being careful I hope,” Thorin said, and Bilbo nodded and gave Thorin’s hand a squeeze.  
  
They had been stuck with the Elves for about a week now, and it wasn’t the first time Thorin had uttered those words, nor did Bilbo think that it would be the last. Under usual circumstances he would probably be a little (or a lot) annoyed over Thorin’s seeming lack of confidence in him and his abilities, but every time a sarcastic or annoyed comment would try to crawl to the tip of his tongue, Bilbo would remember how Thorin had looked when he’d first found him inside the Elves’ dungeons, and that comment would just shrivel up and disappear into nothingness.  
  
“I’m very being careful,” Bilbo replied, feeling the tension in the hand that held his slacken slightly. Thorin's hand could probably crush Bilbo’s fingers like they were twigs, but still he had twined their fingers together so very, very gently that it had instead made something inside Bilbo's chest hurt. The Hobbit really wished he could crawl into Thorin's lap (however undignified such a thing would be it would be worth it to have Thorin fold his arms around him) but as long as they were on the opposite sides of iron bars such a thing seemed very unlikely to happen.   
  
It wasn’t the first time he’d promised to be careful, and likely not the last. Not that there was much to be careful about as his magic ring and quiet steps seemed to do quite a good job of keeping him hidden, and it wasn’t like the Elves were even looking for him in the first place.  
Because why look for someone you didn’t know was missing?  
  
Thorin had been the last to be taken by the Spiders and before they could carry him away, the Elves had showed up to ‘free’ him. (Considering that they put him in one of their prison cells Bilbo thought that the that word was perhaps a misnomer.)   
  
_Really_ , Bilbo had expected better of them. The Elves in his mother’s stories would never have acted like that, and the Hobbit rather hoped that Lord Elrond had not been the _exception_ to how Elves usually behaved when they received guests. He'd enjoyed their stay in Rivendell, however brief it had been, and part of Bilbo longed to go back one day. Part of him would be happy living out the rest of his life there, so he was glad that Lord Elrond had not been a Dwarf-napping, thickheaded idiot. Not that Bilbo expected that he would go back to Rivendell except maybe on a short visit. The part of him that thought wistfully about Rivendell was a ridiculously tiny part compared to the part of Bilbo who wanted to be with Thorin.   
  
When the Elves had gotten Thorin back to their _caves_ (And yes, it was indeed caves, in a way rather similar to the ones the Goblin had lived in, only without everything horrible and with a lot more candles and plants everywhere) they’d given him something to help fight the Spider venom, and then they had left him to sleep it off. What they hadn’t done was to factor in that Dwarfs were incredibly stubborn, and Thorin was the best Dwarf Bilbo had ever met (no offence intended for the rest of the company).  
  
The result of this what that Thorin hadn’t slept for very long, and when he’d woken up he’d been alone. Alone and locked in a cell, with no way of knowing what had happened to his Company; his _family_. To Bilbo.  
  
None of the Elves had seen it fit to leave a guard with him to see that he was okay, or indeed, to be with him when he woke up to tell him that his Company was _not_ currently being served up as dinner to the Spiders. (Okay, fine, the Elves couldn’t perhaps have known this unless one of those who had remained had thought to send a runner back once they’d stumbled over the rest of the company, but _still_ )   
  
It had been hours, _hours_ when Thorin had believed that they all had been lost to him. And no one had cared. No one had responded when he called out.  
  
If Bilbo didn’t have to keep himself hidden he would march right up to this Elven King and tell him just what he thought about this kind of behaviour. The short time Bilbo had thought he had lost Thorin to the Spiders had been bad enough, he couldn’t imagine what it would have been to go hours without knowing if any of his friends, his family, still lived. Especially with nothing but bare stone walls to distract from the horrible thoughts.  
  
Realising that there were only 12 cocoons, and that Thorin was missing, had not been pleasant. (An understatement as big as Lobelia’s sense of self-importance) It had in fact been one of the absolute worst moments in Bilbo’s life, just as bad as seeing Thorin about to be beheaded by an Orc.  
  
Shortly after they had realised that Thorin was not with them they’d heard the Spiders return.   
  
Bilbo had sent the rest of the company back towards where he thought the path was, telling them that he would be right behind them. He just couldn’t leave without seeing if any of the spiders carried Thorin with them, and the others couldn’t stay without risking being captured again as there was only one magic ring.  
  
That of course didn’t stop them from arguing, they were after all Dwarfs.  
  
Thankfully Balin saw the reason in Bilbo’s plan and made everyone else leave, Bofur and Kíli carrying an unconscious Fíli, who was the only one who seemed particularly affected by the Spiders’ venom; the rest ranging from completely fine, to groggy and nauseous.

The returning Spiders were empty handed. (Or empty legged, rather.) But just as Bilbo started to despair again he noticed a cocoon hanging much further up then the other ones had. It was no wonder he'd missed seeing it before.   
  
Climbing the tree was easy enough, and even without the ring the spiders might not have seen him, so distracted were they by the loss of their prey. They even seemed to be angry enough to forget to look for the missing Dwarfs, which certainly was handy.  
  
A couple of minutes later found Bilbo back on the ground, trying to be quiet as he threw up what little he’d had for breakfast that morning. It hadn’t been Thorin in the cocoon. Whoever, or whatever, it was had been there for a lot longer, and the state of the poor creature had quite literally been too much for Bilbo to stomach to handle. The idea that Thorin might be somewhere up in the trees, that he might end up like that… Let’s just say that it was another few minutes before Bilbo got back up on slightly trembling legs and hurried after the others.  
  
Things did not improve when Bilbo caught up with the rest of the Company and he found that they had managed to get themselves captured by Elves. Really grumpy Elves it would seem like as there had been an awful lot of arrows pointed at his friends. Thankfully Bilbo had still been wearing his ring, so the Elves were none the wiser of his presence.  
  
Then, just when everything seemed endlessly horrible, the miracle had happened. One of the Elves had looked consideringly at the dozen (minus the unconscious Fíli) of glaring Dwarfs and said:  
  
“So the Dwarf was indeed not alone.”  
  
And Bilbo’s entire world had narrowed down to those seven words.

Barely resisting the urge to grab the young (though young was rather relative when it came to Elves) Elf by his blond hair and very politely _scream_ at him until he clarified, Bilbo was immensely relieved when Kíli did it for him. Except without the grabbing, (because: arrows) and without the politeness (because: Kíli).  
  
“Thorin! Where is he? If you’ve harmed him in any way-“  
  
“Thorin?” the young Elf asked, tilting his head to the side. “The Dwarf we found did not introduce himself, but if this Thorin you speak of would be Thorin son of Thráin, son of Thror, then yes, I do see the family resemblance.”  
  
Before Kíli had been able to say anything else Dwalin had snagged him by the collar and pulled him back to whisper something in his ear. Whatever it was made Kíli glower and look quite a bit like a cat someone had just poured water on, but he remained quiet. Instead Balin had taken a step forward and politely (without screaming) requested that the Elves would share what they knew about their missing companion.  
  
When the Elves instead glanced at each other and the young one (why was he even in charge? He looked to be the equivalent of Fíli and Kíli in Elven years) asked what business they had in the forest, Bilbo came very close to throwing something at his head, with the ring off, just so that the haughty, impolite _boy_ would know just who had hit him.  
  
“Our business is our own,” Balin had said squaring his shoulders, and Bilbo had been forced to literally bite his tongue so that he would not speak.   
Tell them everything, he’d wanted to say. Anything if that would lead to Thorin being  with them, _him_ , once again.  
  
But he hadn’t needed to worry about it. Wherever the Elves had brought Thorin, it seemed that they were of the opinion that the rest of them should go there as well. When that plan became apparent to the Dwarfs, more than one glanced around as if searching for something.  
  
Realising that he would have to do something or the Dwarfs would reveal that there was yet another person missing, Bilbo tiptoed up to Nori and lightly tapped his hand.   
  
He’d picked Nori because he’d figured that out of all the Dwarfs, Nori was the one most accustomed to keeping his thoughts off his face since that was part of his profession (just don’t call it a profession if Dwalin was around to complain about it).   
  
The gamble paid off. Instead of flinching or even glancing around Nori merely tapped a finger against Bilbo’s hand and catching Dwalin’s eye he did some very complicated looking signing with his hands. With the way Dwalin, and the rest of the Dwarfs who were watching, relaxed, Bilbo figured that Nori was indeed telling them that their burglar had re-joined them, and not that he was being attacked by a finger touching ghost.  
  
“But what about-“ Kíli had unfortunately missed seeing Nori’s signing, but Dwalin had things under control.  
  
“It’s fine.”  
  
“But-“  
  
“It’s _fine_.”  
  
“It is?”  
  
“ _Yes_.”  
  
Bofur also hadn’t seen it, but he didn’t seem to be too concerned over Bilbo’s whereabouts. Since he was kneeling next to the still unconscious Fíli, Bilbo completely understood. His own thought kept going _Thorin, Thorin, Thorin_ whenever he stopped concentrating, so he didn't fault Bofur for being preoccupied.  
  
On the way back to the Elves home they were all attacked by spiders again, but the Elves were prepared and many arrows later the creatures were either dead or fleeing. None had even managed to get close.   
  
The Elves’ success caused more than one mutter amongst the Dwarfs, and there was some complaints about how it wasn’t sporting. (Kíli thankfully didn’t hear any of this as he was too busy helping Bofur with Fíli.) As far as Bilbo was concerned, any method that didn't land you in a cocoon, was probably the one to use.  
  
By the time they got to the caves ( _caves_!) the Elves had sussed out that Balin and Dwalin were the ones the rest of the Company looked to for guidance, so of course that made the Elves want to separate Dwalin and Balin from the rest of the Company. _Really_.   
  
It was things like this that would be the real reason why no one in the Shire would believe him if he got the chance to tell them about this adventure. Impolite, petty, and borderline cruel Elves? Such nonsense, stop lying right now, Bilbo Baggins.  
  
The Elves' plan was not really popular, especially when it became clear that everyone would be going in separate cells, (why did the Elves have such a large prison to begin with?) but since there was still an awful lot of arrows pointed at them they had little choice.  
  
Kíli’s wet cat frenzy had mellowed into a kicked-puppy look, and it was a tough competition for the most upset award. In the end it was probably Bofur when the Elves refused to put Fíli in the same cell as him. The Elves reassurances that the continued unconsciousness was not uncommon did little to calm anyone, and Bilbo could have sworn even Bofur’s hat seemed to sag when the cell door closed on him. Bilbo wanted to whisper to his friend that he would look after Fíli, but he was afraid that the Elves would hear him. He needed to find Thorin.  
  
As the Elves took Dwalin and Balin to another part of the prison Bilbo followed, hoping that wherever they were going was where Thorin was as they’d yet to see him.   
  
Long before they got to their destination it became rather clear that they would be seeing Thorin soon. Bilbo would recognize his voice anywhere, even if it was snarling curses and threats, not all in Westron either, which Thorin was indeed doing.  
  
The Elves looked rather taken aback, but as for Bilbo, his feet itched to just go rushing ahead to find Thorin as quickly as possible. Dwalin and Balin exchanged a worried look and Dwalin called out something in their strange language. The shouting quieted instantly, and instead:  
  
“ _Dwalin_?”  
  
“Aye,” Dwalin called back. “And Balin with me. The rest are all right as well, even if the Elven hospitality is even less impressive the second time around.”  
  
There was no reply and when they rounded the next corner the reason behind it became obvious.  
  
Thorin; who had faced trolls, Orcs and his grandfather’s killer without even blinking, knelt on the stone floor as if his legs had refused to carry him any longer. His hands were wrapped around thick iron bars, and the look in his eyes when he saw Dwalin and Balin enter the corridor…  Bilbo almost wept.

Later, when he finally dared remove the ring and make himself known to Thorin he did weep. As much from his own relief  as from the way Thorin’s hand trembled the slightest bit when he reached out between the bars to cup Bilbo’s face.  
  
Much later he would prod gently at Thorin until the Dwarf told him enough about what had happened since they parted for Bilbo to fill in the remaining blanks himself.

And that’s why he would promise Thorin to be careful until his voice disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about having a Thorin POV. But really, that’d be too depressing for this story. Let’s just say that he was not having a good day. :/ Mirkwood is a really sucky place to be in for a story that I want to make fun. *ignores that there's not really a lot of happy go lucky locations left in this story*
> 
> I hope you don’t think that I was being too mean to the Elves. They’re not sadistic, just short-sighted and a bit paranoid. And they really don’t like Dwarfs, which is mostly Thranduil’s fault, because he *really* doesn’t like Dwarfs. But to be fair to him, he has his reasons, and I'd say that they're as valid as any reason the Dwarfs have for disliking Elves.   
> Um, if there are two opposing kinds of racists, do they cancel each other out? Yeah, I didn't think so either...


	70. TO FREEDOM! (Is This Really The Best Idea We Have?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein there is a daring escape. Hmm, what could that possibly be about...

Fíli was bored. It had been a while since he’d had the chance to be bored, and he found that he hadn’t missed it. Okay, it had been kind of relaxing, in a ‘damn, we’ve been captured by Elves’-way for the first day or so, but unsurprisingly, it was boring to be bored.  
  
They had been locked up for longer than he cared thinking about and the only good points about being locked up was the lack of spiders and… that was about it. He hadn’t seen Bofur’s face in much too long, and not even the time Bilbo brought along his hat for Fíli to borrow for a while hadn’t really cheered him up much. (Still, Fíli hadn’t really want to give back the hat; even a small piece of Bofur was better than no piece at all. Unless you were talking about an _actual_ piece, in which case Fíli was firmly of the opinion that all Bofur’s bits and pieces should remain attached to said Dwarf).  
  
The presence of _Elves_ on the other hand was really starting to get on everyone’s nerves, and with being  rather short-tempered, they all got on each other’s nerves as well. Some of them more than others. It seemed rather connected to if you were related or not, and unfortunately (?) there was a lot of family ties amongst the company.  
  
“Kíli, stop chewing so damned loud,” Fíli complained, glaring over at his brother.  
  
“Pfft, says the one who’s been snoring loud enough to keep _Beorn_ awake back in his house,” Kíli scoffed, and continued to chew his food with a frankly unmerited volume.  
  
“Ah, so you admit that you _can’t_ actually keep your mouth shut?” Fíli shot back. “Because while I’m sure my snoring isn’t that bad, I can’t really doing anything about that. Chewing on the other hand is usually something that can be control by the owner of said mouth.”  
  
“Your snoring _is_ that bad,” was all Kíli would say.  
  
“BOFUR,” Fíli called down the hallway. “DO I SNORE?”  
  
“LEAVE ME OUT OF THIS,” Bofur called back. “I’VE HEARD ENOUGH ALREADY.”  
  
“Of your snoring,” Kíli filled in smugly.

Fíli lobbed a piece of bread at him, it uselessly bounced off one of the iron bars in front of Kíli.  
  
Life wasn’t fair.

“If this is a plot to make the Elves annoyed enough to actually throw you out I think it could work,” Bilbo said, suddenly appearing in the hallway between Fíli’s and Kíli’s cells. “Only it would drive everyone else insane first. And by everyone I mostly mean me. And don’t throw anything else, that almost hit me.”  
  
The Hobbit scraped his foot a little awkwardly against the stone floor. “But while on this subject, I think I might have figured out a way for us to get out of here. But you won’t like it. Thorin didn’t.”  
  
“Bilbo,” Fíli breathed, clutching at the iron bars in front of him. “I’m almost at the point where I’d sleep with one of the Elves if that meant we could get out of there.”  
  
“I HEARD THAT!”  
  
“I SAID ‘ALMOST’,” Fíli called back to Bofur. “AND I’D BE THINKING ABOUT YOU.”  
  
“THAT IS _NOT_ COMFORTING.”  
  
Turning back to Bilbo. Fíli gave the Hobbit his best puppy-dog eyes. “Whatever it is, I promise you, I will support it if we can get out of this place.”  
  
“I’ll hold you to that,” Bilbo murmured. “Because I’m not sure if I managed to convince Thorin.”  
  
“How bad could it be?” Kíli asked, and Fíli winced.  
  
Could everyone please stop saying things like that? Now Kíli likely had jinxed them and they would have to… well, _actually_ sleep with the Elves or something. And Fíli really didn’t want to do it. Even if he hadn’t already been opposed to sleeping with anyone not being Bofur, the Elves were just so… _weird_. They all looked like they’d been stretched out, all being long and skinny, and they all looked the same somehow with their delicate features and too straight hair. It was unsettling.  
-  
  
They didn’t have to prostitute themselves to the Elves, which was a relief, no doubt about it.  
  
But honestly, Bilbo’s plan of riding barrels down a river while basically hoping for the best in terms of rocks, drowning, and currents, that plan was only slightly better.  
  
That it was the _best_ plan anyone of them could figure out… that was rather embarrassing. Fíli was going to make Ori write that something else had happened in that history of his.  
  
Except… well, it didn’t really say anything flattering about the Elves either did it? That a Hobbit managed to burgle 13 Dwarfs right out from beneath their tiny little noses and actually got the Elves to help to push them on their way to freedom. Maybe it should be allowed to remain after all. But there would have to be some modifications done, Fíli thought as he coughed up what felt like the better (or worse) part of the damned lake they’d ended up in. Bilbo had put a lid on their barrels to keep most of the water out, but ‘most’ was the key word in that sentence.  
  
“Bilbo, I’m not sure if I want to hug you or stuff you back inside a barrel,” Nori spluttered.  
  
Thorin muttered something rude (let it be unsaid which part of Nori’s statement that he opposed) and continued to try and wrap a shivering Bilbo up in his coat (the fur was only slightly wet).  
  
“I found the barrels with our weapons!” Glóin hollered from further down the lakeside. “One of them anyway.”  
  
Their Hobbit hadn’t actually had the chance to hide himself in a barrel, instead he’d been forced to cling to theirs as they’d gone down river, and as a result of that he was completely soaked (instead of just mostly soaked like the rest of them) and his teeth were shattering bad enough that he couldn’t answer Nori.  
  
“I think you should get out of those wet clothes,” Thorin said, rubbing his hands up and down Bilbo’s arms beneath the coat.  
  
Nori and Bombur both whistled, and now there was little doubt as to why Thorin was glaring.  
  
“Does anyone have anything spare and dry?” Fíli’s uncle asked, aiming a look at the two whistlers that mean that as far as they were concerned, ’spare’ was a very broad term. Bombur chuckled slightly when he produced an undershirt large enough for Bilbo to use as a tent.  
  
“It’s dry,” he promised when he handed it over to their Hobbit.  
  
“I’ll look ridiculous,” Bilbo protested, sceptically eying the shirt – and also the trousers that Dori had managed to have somewhere on his person.  
  
“You _are_ quite ridiculous if you think that is a valid argument,” Thorin informed him. “While I do not mind seeing you in my colours, I would prefer that it was not your skin that was blue.”  
  
“Your colours?” Bilbo blinked. “Well, you do look nice in blue.”  
  
Kíli snickered. “No, blue and silver are the royal colours, Bilbo. They stand for the line of Durin.”  
  
“Oh,” Bilbo said, still not any closer to actually changing into the dry clothes.  
  
“A word,” Fíli requested, snagging Bilbo away from his Uncle and giving Thorin a comforting grin in the process. Thorin, spoilsport that he was, didn’t look comforted.  
  
“I’ll make you a deal,” Fíli whispered into Bilbo’s ear. “You’ll do as Uncle wants regarding the clothes, without protests. And I’ll forget to mention to _him_ , how you didn’t mention to _us_ that you barely can swim when you told us of your plan.”  
  
Bilbo’s eyes got very wide and Fíli nodded. “Yes, I haven’t forgotten what you said when we bathed in the hot springs.”  
  
To be honest, he _had_ pretty much forgotten about it until the very moment his barrel had hit the water, and by then it had been rather too late to do anything else than panic and hope that Bilbo had somehow managed to fit in swimming lessons in-between hiding from the Elves and keeping them all company. Obviously it had ended without Bilbo drowning, but Fíli had the feeling that Thorin still would manage to end up in quite the snit (or whatever the more majestic version of  snit was) over it.  
  
Bilbo appeared to share that conviction, because he quickly nodded and was soon stripped (Nori whistled again, and got smacked on the head by Thorin. Bombur didn’t whistle, as he obviously had the better sense for self-preservation) and changed.  
  
He _did_ look rather ridiculous. Bombur’s shirt was big enough for about three or four Bilbo’s, and until Bofur passed him a bit of rope, Bilbo was forced to hold onto the waist of Dori’s trousers to keep them from sliding down to his ankles. But he also looked a lot drier (big surprise there) and once they’d begun to walk towards the town Kíli had spotted, he even stopped shivering.  
  
Of course that could also have been due to what Fíli suspected was a body-encompassing blush, which occurred when the rope-belt somehow slipped and Dori’s trousers _did_ slip down to pool at Bilbo’s feet. Nori whistled, even though all they could see was Bilbo’s knees and lower legs, everything else was covered with Bombur’s shirt, and Thorin muttered dark threats about sending certain people back to the Elves.  
  
Fíli grinned and leaned his head on Bofur’s shoulder as they walked.  
  
It wasn’t particularly comfortable to walk like that, and they were walking close enough that their feet constantly wanted to step on each other, but considering that (except for a quick embrace while they made their escape) it was ages since he’d gotten to be this close to Bofur, Fíli didn’t care.  
  
Dwalin and Kíli seemed to be of much the same opinion. Well, not in terms to Bofur, thank Mahal, but the two of them also stuck close enough to each other that air had a hard time getting between them. And, wonder of all wonders, Thorin did the same with Bilbo, even though the two of them had actually been able to see each other for the entirety of their imprisonment. But at least it helped warm Bilbo up, and the Hobbit didn't really look like he minded either. All 14 of the company did infact have smiles on their faces.  
  
Sure, the barrel ride had been awful, and sure, they were pretty wet and bruised and if Fíli didn't have to ever see an apple that would be just fine (his barrel had smelled like apples. This had been nice for the first ten minutes. It had been _horrible_ for the rest of the time) but they had made it. And off in the distance, behind the river and the lake, there she was.

 _Erebor_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the stay with the Elves ended up being a really short thing in this story. But you didn't miss much. The Elves annoyed Thorin, (if there was Facebook in Middle Earth, Thorin would so start the Thranduil sucks-group) Bilbo sneaked around, Fíli and Kíli fought on average three times a day, Bofur and Fíli learnt what a long-distance relationship was (hey, I'm sure lenght is relative, and it seemed really far away to them) and Dwalin and Kíli were not happy about not even being able to talk to each other, so they used Bilbo as a messenger, something he got fairly sick off fairly quickly. Everyone else were mostly just bored and angry with the Elves. Bombur was probably the most happy since he got all the food he wanted and there were *loads* of Elves to poke fun at.
> 
> Since most of that would not really be in Fíli's POV, and not really long enough for an interlude, you get the above summary instead. :D


	71. Interlude - A Lake-town Lie-down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're finally checking in on Dwalin and Kíli again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'm not the only one who has thought it's been way to long since we had an interlude with these two.

Dwalin was awoken by Kíli shaking his shoulder.  
  
“Dwalin, we need to escape!"  
  
For a moment the warrior thought that they were still back in Mirkwood, trapped by the Elves, but then the reality of Kíli actually being able to shake him; touch him, and the fact that he was lying on a very large and soft bed kicked in. They were in Lake-town, not in that accursed forest.  
   
“Escape from what?” he asked drowsily, pulling on Kíli’s sleeve. “Nothing dangerous here or Thorin would be shouting loud enough for all our ancestors to hear. Come back to bed.”  
  
“I’m serious. Well, almost serious.” Kíli allowed Dwalin to drag him down on the bed and into his arms. “It’s been three days and I still can’t go outside to have a smoke without people cheering when they see me and I even heard bits of a song floating around and there are just so many of them.” Kíli sighed and tucked his face into Dwalin’s neck.  
  
“So you want to escape? From the people who have given us food and shelter?”  
  
“They are _cheering_ when they see me,” Kíli moaned. “It was fun the first two-three times it happened, but now it’s just strange and I’d really wish that they’d stop.”

“They’re pleased to see us,” Dwalin murmured, letting his fingers tangle in Kíli’s long dark hair that always looked like he’d recently been somewhere very windy. “And I’m rather pleased to not see any bloody Elves around.”  
  
“But they’re not really pleased to see _us_ ,” Kíli said quietly. “Some of them hope that we’ll tell them that the dragon is dead, or that we’ll manage to kill it if it isn’t. Some wants the treasure, and some looks at us like… like we’re something new and exotic. Almost like a _pet_. That's what it feels like when they try to touch my hair or say something about my height."

Dwalin frowned at the thought of somebody touching Kíli against his will, but he couldn't deny that there was much truth in what he'd say, even if Dwalin had hoped that his lover wouldn't notice. It was nicer to think that the Men of Lake-town really did shelter them due to the ancient alliance between Thror and the people of Dale. But unfortunately, Kíli's observations were not wrong. Dwalin let out a deep breath and rolled them so Kíli was lying on his back with Dwalin looming over him, holding himself up on his elbows.  
  
“When did you become so wise?” he asked, nudging his nose against Kíli’s cheek. “I'll swear that your brother hasn’t noticed any of that, though I guess that could be because he’s hardly come out of the room he shares with Bofur.”  
  
Kíli made a face. “Thank you, no details required. Or wanted.”  
  
“Haven’t seen your uncle around much either,” Dwalin said innocently, chuckling when Kíli pulled on his beard as retaliation.  
  
“He’s only stayed in his room so much because he’s worried about Bilbo and that is the entire reason why we've not seen him."  
  
“If you say so,” Dwalin said. “I hope our burglar won’t end up giving Thorin his cold. He’s a miserable bastard when he’s sick.”  
  
“You don’t need to tell me about it,” Kíli said and rolled his eyes. “I’ve lived with him for all my life. I’m surprised Mum hasn’t yet throttled him. Though it was a near thing the time he lost his voice and still wouldn’t take time to recover. He went around confusing everyone by croaking nonsense at them and Mum was the one who had to try and clean up the resulting mess.”

Dwalin smiled and pressed a kiss to the corner of Kíli’s mouth. His lover blinked up at him.  
  
“What was that for?”  
  
“I need a reason now?”  
  
“Well, no.” Kíli grinned up at him. “Though feel free to tell me I’m just irresistible.”  
  
“You’re absolutely irresistible,” Dwalin rumbled, closing the small gap between them to properly kiss his lover.  
  
“I- I knew that,” Kíli gasped some time later.  
  
Dwalin paid the words little mind as he was busy getting Kíli out of his clothes and pressing kisses to each bit of uncovered flesh.  
  
-  
  
“I still don’t like it here,” Kíli said staring dazedly up at the ceiling. “Though I’m definitely growing fond of this bed.”  
  
“You don’t have to like it here, just don’t let them know,” Dwalin suggested, and his hot breath against Kíli’s skin made the younger Dwarf shiver. “We’ll only be staying until Thorin stops fussing about our burglar anyway.”  
  
Kíli turned his head to look at Dwalin. “So if I sounded like I was trying to cough up a lung you’d not ‘fuss’ the slightest bit over me? Somehow I don’t believe that. You and Thorin are a lot more alike than-“ Kíli paused. “I can’t believe I almost compared my lover to my uncle. Quick, I did someone bring water from the river Bombur fell into? I need to forget this.”  
  
Dwalin merely snorted and pressed their mouths together once again, sucking lightly on Kíli's bottom lip.  
  
“If you still would have me confused with Thorin after that, _please_ do not tell me.”  
  
“You’re the one who brought up both Thorin and Fíli,” Kíli said and poked Dwalin in his ribs. “Maybe we should talk about Balin for a change. He certainly seems happy to be here.”  
  
“It’s the closest we’ve been to home in a long time,” Dwalin said simply. “What does it matter that we’re in a city full of scheming Men when we are finally able to look upon the lonely mountain and know that soon we will be there. If I know Thorin at all he feels the pull even more keenly than any of us, so I’m actually impressed that he does not yet show any sign of wanting us to leave.”  
  
Kíli shrugged. “It has only been three days, and Bilbo really seems to have caught a particularly nasty cold.” Then again, Kíli remembered of his uncle had looked on top of the Carrock, looking out on Erebor.  
  
“Be at is may,” Dwalin rumbled. “The stone will be calling to him, as it is to me.”  
  
“What does it feel like?” Kíli asked, a little wistfully, because he didn’t feel any sort of pull. When he looked towards Erebor he felt awe and a sense of possessiveness. (And, to be completely honest, a little nervous. There was likely a Dragon inside it after all.)  
  
“I don’t think any two Dwarfs will feel exactly the same thing,” Dwalin said thoughtfully, tightening the arm he had wrapped around Kíli’s waist. “For me it’s like someone humming a tune but it hasn’t got a melody, or really much of a sound.” The large Dwarf shook his head. “I know it mustn’t make much sense to hear of it.”  
  
“Could it be a feeling in your chest, like something buzzing inside you, as if you’ve swallowed some friendly bees?”  
  
“Aye, I don’t see why not. So you feel it?”  
  
“Not when I think of Erebor.” Kíli placed his head on Dwalin’s chest to hear his heart beat. “But when I think of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kíli's is too cool to have butterflies in his stomach ;)
> 
> I can't say this too often, thanks to everyone still reading this! And welcome to everyone who's finally caught up! ^^


	72. Interlude - True Love's Cough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Bilbo is sick and Thorin, surprisingly doesn't freak out. Much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps, just a short, quick, one I'm afraid, I've not got time to really put on the writing hat at the moment, hopefully I'll be able to post something beg. next week. But it fits rather well, considering that I felt that I needed to have Thorin's POV on Bilbo being sick before we start actually doing something resembling plot. (WE'RE SO CLOSE TO EREBOR NOW, OMG)

“He may have a stuffed nose and cough, but his lungs are clear and the fever is normal enough.”  
  
“I dold you it's odly a cold,” Bilbo said, following that comforting statement with a bout of strained coughing.  
  
Oín and Thorin looked at each other (well, Óin looked, Thorin glared) and Óin shrugged.  
  
“As I said, he’ll be fine. He just needs a bit of rest.”  
  
Óin left and Thorin sat down on the bed next to his Hobbit.  
  
“You’ll ged sick,” Bilbo protested when Thorin leaned forward to press a kiss to his hot forehead. “Add stop dat, I doe you are feelid by tebadure.”  
  
Thorin _was_ , but he hummed something noncommittally and took Bilbo’s hand in his. “I’ve offered to wed you, I think I can stand to share a cold with you, should it come to that.”  
  
“Dat would be robadic, if dere was do slibe idvolved.” But Bilbo didn’t protest when Thorin moved to lie down on the bed behind him, instead just burrowing back further into Thorin’s embrace. Unfortunately he didn't say anything about the still open marriage proposal either, but Thorin was patient. (No, really.)  
  
“Staying here until you are well enough to travel will benefit us all,” Thorin said as he gently trailed his fingers over Bilbo’s shirt-covered stomach. He knew that it hadn’t been nearly as flat when they’d begun their journey, and he did not like this change. They’d all lost a bit of weight, that was only to be expected, but Bilbo was so small to begin with. If he lost his roundness, there wouldn’t be much left.

Bilbo scoffed, or he tried to, because it quickly turned into another coughing fit.  
  
“Yes, because whad you wand after beidg locked up by Elves is to lock yourselves id roobs id dis city ov Med. We cad go to Erebor, I’b fide.”  
  
This was followed by a solid minute of coughing which rather did Bilbo the disfavour of not agreeing with is point.  
   
 “We’re staying until you can say more than a few sentences without coughing, and that’s final,” Thorin murmured.  
   
“’tubborn Dwarf,” Bilbo muttered.  
  
“Obstinate Hobbit,” Thorin countered, because after all, _he_ was not the one being stubborn here. “Go to sleep, you will be better for it.”  
  
Surprisingly, or perhaps not, that was exactly what Bilbo ended up doing.  
  
If Thorin ignored the snuffles and the occasionally cough, (and that Erebor still had a Dragon inside, and whatever his nephews were currently up to as that was likely not something he’d want to know about, and the continuing existance of Elves in the world) then he could happily spend the rest of his life like this, with Bilbo in his arms.  
  
It wasn’t perhaps the most practical of thoughts, but it was an enticing one. He could imagine whole days when he’d leave the ruling of the kingdom to Fíli (together with Dís and Balin and Dwalin and…) and instead he and Bilbo would just remain in bed. They’d simply not get up in the morning and instead stay beneath the covers in a ball of limbs and sheets and only waking up enough to share kisses and touch every now and again.  
  
A few hours later - Thorin might have ended up falling asleep himself, (what he’d said to Bilbo about everyone needing rest was not really that much of an exaggeration,) Óin slipped back into the room, carrying a pitcher of water, a glass and a small parcel.  
  
Thorin raised his head to peer up at him over Bilbo’s curly head.  
  
“I’ve visited the market place, and I’ve got a salve for his chest; for the cough, and something that’ll help with the fever.”  
  
“I thought you said that the fever was normal,” Thorin frowned.  
  
“It is, but we want to make sure it keeps that way, don’t we, lad? No, don’t wake him,” Óin added when Thorin moved to do just that. “He still needs sleep more than anything I can give him. The bags beneath his eyes are big enough to stuff an Elf in. Unless his fever actually gets worse it can wait until he wakes.”

Still frowning Thorin let his arm curl around Bilbo’s waist once more as Óin gave instructions on what to do when Bilbo woke.  
  
Thorin wasn’t sure if he wanted Bilbo to get the rest he clearly needed or if he wanted to give him the medicine so that the sickness didn’t end up getting worse. But Óin probably had the right of it, and Thorin knew very well that Bilbo hadn’t been sleeping properly for most of the time they’d spent as prisoners to the Elves.  
  
Even though Bilbo was clearly not in Mirkwood any longer, Thorin _still_ didn’t appreciate the thought of him running around alone in the midst of so many Elves. And Thranduil. (Because that Elf was a special case when it came to Thorin’s list of Things He Did Not Like At All.) ((That was the _polite_ name for that list, let’s not get into what Thorin really called it.))  
  
He’d been relived beyond words when Bilbo suddenly appeared outside his cell, but as soon as that had passed he’d started worrying about all the things that could happen to an invisible Hobbit in hostile territory, and they’d spent so much time in the prison that it was possible that his mind hadn’t quite realised that he could stop worrying. Or rather, that it was all right to start worrying about other things…

When Bilbo woke up an hour or so later, bleary eyed and rumpled, Thorin steeled himself and managed to get and prepare the medicine Óin had brought without giving in to the notion that he shouldn't go more than a few inches from his Hobbit.  
  
Bilbo drank the liquid without protests and only shook his head when Thorin offered to bring him something to eat. Both these things were worrying, but it wasn’t the first time in his life Thorin had seem someone with a cold, so he merely nodded and asked Bilbo to remove his shirt.  
  
Bilbo raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Óin asked that I put this on your chest,” Thorin said, bringing the jar of salve into view. It smelled strongly out of some spices that Thorin didn’t recognize and it was truly a testament of Bilbo’s stuffed nose that he didn’t react when Thorin brought it over to the bed.

While it might have been for medicinal purposes, let it be said that Thorin didn’t exactly mind to have to put his hands all over Bilbo’s chest, but that was as far as he let himself consider the matter considering Bilbo’s less than optimal health (and inability to kiss without accidentally suffocating).  
  
They curled together again once Bilbo’s chest was thoroughly  coated with the smelly salve, Thorin burying his nose in Bilbo’s hair to hide from the spicy smell.  
  
He thought Bilbo had fallen asleep again, so it was a surprise when the Hobbit suddenly started giggling, and coughing.  
  
“What is so amusing?” Thorin asked, raising himself up on one elbow to be able to look down on Bilbo.  
  
“Cad you ibagide de look od de guards’ faces whed dey see you’re all gode? Dey’ll thidk you just vadished.”  
  
“It’s a shame they won’t get to know how skilled of a burglar you are,” Thorin smiled.

“We should have left a dote.”  
  
“'Missing Dwarfs courteous of Bilbo Baggins, Master Burglar'?” Thorin suggested and Bilbo giggled and nodded as best as he could considering that he was lying down.

“The Elved kidg had pretty hair dough.”  
  
And just like that, the frown was back on Thorin’s face, a new and improved version.  
  
“But he’s such a _beady_!” Bilbo continued as he couldn't see Thorin's face.  
  
“A _what_?” Thorin asked.  
  
“A _meady_ ,” Bilbo said again. “A _bully_. And his crowd looked stupid. Too mady sticks. I’ve dot seed yours, but I dink it’ll be buch prettier. _You_ are very pretty,” Bilbo added as an afterthought. “But you’d look very stradge as a blodd. So it's good that-”  
  
Thorin carefully rolled his still chattering Hobbit so that Bilbo was lying on his back. He immediately noticed how glassy Bilbo’s eyes were, and at first he thought that it was the fever getting worse, then he saw how - even though it wasn’t very bright in the room, the black of Bilbo’s eyes were mere pinpricks.  
  
“Your eyebrows are like fat caterpillars,” Bilbo said dreamily, reaching up a hand to stroke one.  
  
“ÓIN!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Hobbits react a little different to certain herbs than Dwarfs do. Whooops! But he wasn’t any worse for it, so don’t worry. And neither was Óin, because Thorin settled for just frowning and glaring as he didn't want to leave Bilbo alone.


	73. I Enjoy Long Walks On The Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bofur starts out naked and there is a lack of pants followed by an escape across the rooftops, well, almost across the rooftops anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Place your bets, do you think I'll finish this before the next film hits the cinemas?

“You are naked,” Fíli informed Bofur, just in case he’d been unaware.  
  
“Yes?” Bofur replied, not looking up from where he was digging through a pile of clothes. “I had noticed.”  
  
“I certainly have as well,” Fíli said, leaning back against the wall in their room. Except for the hat Bofur was most definitely naked, revealing all that lovely skin for Fíli’s viewing pleasure.  
  
Bofur turned his head to grin up at him. “I’d thought you’d be getting used to it by now.”  
  
True, since their arrival to Lake-town the two of them had spent a lot of time in the room they’d been given (“Privacy at last,” as Bofur had put it.) and admittedly a lot of time had been spent with very little clothes , but the privilege of getting to look at Bofur sans clothes was not something Fíli was in a hurry to take for granted, and he told his betrothed  as much.  
  
“Privilege, eh?” Bofur chuckled. “I’m honoured, my prince.”  
  
“So, as we have established that I’m not complaining, _why_ are you naked?”  
  
“Because I’m not wearing any clothes,” Bofur said smartly, and Fíli snorted.  
  
“As you are currently rummaging _through_ clothes, is my conclusion that you are planning on getting dressed correct? Or are you just teasing them with the possibility of being wrapped around you?”  
  
“No offence to the company, but if I don’t see the outside of his house soon I am going to start to go crazy,” Bofur muttered as he fished up a blue tunic from the pile.  
  
The clothes they had been generously offered by the people of Lake-town  was all of good quality but it usually came with one out of two problems. Either it was clothes meant for a fully grown Man, which leant itself to making them all look like children playing dress-up, or it was clothes meant for children, which made them look ridiculous in a whole new way since it usually ended up being too tight around the chest, arms or thighs.  
  
The tunic Bofur held was certainly handsome, and Fíli approved of dressing Bofur in one the royal colours, but it unfortunately looked to be made for someone more built like Bilbo.  
  
“I think we can give this to Bilbo,” Bofur mused, echoing Fíli’s thoughts.  
  
The blond pushed away from the wall and went to help Bofur find something to wear. He might as well, because it was possible that he’d been responsible for messing up the last pair of shirt and trousers that Bofur had found… Not that Bofur had complained at the time.  
  
Snickering Fíli held up a skirt.  
  
“Don’t have the legs for it,” Bofur said. “You on the other hand…”

“Did you notice how all the Elves wore robes?” Fíli asked. “I didn’t see a single one of them wearing trousers.”  
  
“Oh there were those wearing trousers, and some had robes and trousers,” Bofur said absentmindedly as he was still digging through the clothes. “Not sure why, but I’ve never claimed to understand the minds of Elves. Ah!” Bofur said in triumph when he finally found a shirt and trousers that seemed like they would fit.  
  
“You’re not wearing pants,” Fíli observed as Bofur pulled on the dark grey trousers and laced them. “I find that… interesting.”  
  
Bofur shot him a slightly exasperated look. “A moment ago I wasn’t wearing anything, I don’t see why just the lack of pants would merit such an expression for you.”  
  
“Expression?” Fíli said innocently as he let his eyes sweep down Bofur’s chest and stomach as he pulled the cream coloured  tunic over his upper body.

“This set of clothes is _not_ going the way of the last,” Bofur warned as he pulled on his boots. “No matter how dark-eyed and prettily you look at me.”  
  
“I’m hardly pretty,” Fíli complained and Bofur leaned over to kiss his nose.  
  
“Fíli, you’re the prettiest Dwarf I’ve seen, and the loveliest. Handsomest too, so don’t fret.”  
  
When he made to pull back Fíli hooked his hand behind Bofur’s head and stole a real kiss.

“And yet you’re not half as lucky as I am,” he murmured into Bofur’s ear after they’d parted.  
  
“I’m not taking off my clothes,” Bofur as he caught the hand sneaking towards the laces in his trousers.  
  
Fíli most definitely did not pout at this. But he blinked in surprise when Bofur, instead of going towards the door, headed towards the window, opening it, and began to climb outside.

“Um, Bofur? It’s not like I’m going to stop you from going outside. You can use the door.”  
  
Bofur snorted. “I thank you kindly, my prince, but I was talking to Bombur earlier, and apparently you tend to pick up a tail of followers if you use the main entrance, little ones mostly. And I’m rather looking to have a moment to myself without having to answer questions about what it means to be a Dwarf and if they can borrow my hat. Maybe when I get back, we’ll see. But I think Bombur and Bifur had things well in hand entertaining the children, so I'll make my escape while I can.”

“Oh,” Fíli said, scuffing his boot against the wooden floor. “Well, have fun then.” He’d expected to spend the day with Bofur, but if he wanted to be alone-  
  
“Aren’t you coming?” Bofur asked.  
  
“But you said you wanted a moment to yourself?”  
  
“Without answering questions about what it means to be a Dwarf,” Bofur said and shook his head. “Got many of those, do you?”  
  
“So can I borrow your hat?” Fíli grinned, chuckling when Bofur rolled his eyes and disappeared out of sight.  
  
Walking over to the window Fíli glanced outside to find Bofur balancing on a narrow ledge.  
  
“If we follow this we can drop down onto that roof and then down to the walkway,” Bofur said and nodded to his left.  
  
Lake-town was a town unlike any other Fíli had seen. It was built almost entirely on the lake itself, which meant that all the houses were built on long poles sticking up from the bottom of it. A consequence of that was that almost all the houses were built very close together, likely to save on the number of poles needed for the walkways that stretched between the buildings, and it was probably possible to travel around the entire town by jumping from roof to roof. Fíli wouldn’t be surprised if Nori had tried it already.  
  
With a sigh Fíli slung a leg over the window sill. “I’m not sure if this is one of your better ideas,” he told Bofur who was already edging along towards the left.  
  
“Well, I usually have _extremely_ brilliant ideas,” Bofur smiled. “So let me have moderately clever ones once in a while as well even though they look dreary in comparison.”

They managed to get to the wooden walkway without falling into the lake or breaking anything, and without running into any children.  
  
“Now what?” Fíli asked.  
  
“This way,” Bofur said, taking Fíli’s hand and pulling him along. The weaved through the houses and after a few minutes Fíli could see dry land. Well, mostly dry land as there was still a giant lake close by.  
  
Bofur hummed in contentment once their feet were back on solid ground again.  
  
“Even the Elves’ dungeons felt nicer than essentially walking on water. It's just not natural,” Bofur said as they strolled along the lakeside. Ahead of them Erebor was rising up in the distance.  
  
It was not really any wonder why she was called the Lonely Mountain, because as you looked north, there was nothing else in sight that could compete in sheer size.

She was beautiful.  
  


“Home,” Fíli said, feeling a little wistful. They were so close now, but the greatest danger still lay ahead.  
  
“Aye,” Bofur murmured. “It’s been so long.”  
  
“I wish I could have seen her as she was,” Fíli said. “The Dragon will doubtless have wreaked havoc inside the halls and chambers.”  
  
“Walls and floors can be repaired,” Bofur said, squeezing Fíli’s hand. “You’ll get to see her as magnificent as she was, even if it’ll take some time.”

“I hope so,” Fíli said, eyes still fixed to the north. When Bofur’s hand gently touch his cheek he turned his head to look at the other Dwarf.  
  
“Don’t sound so sad,” Bofur told him. “We’ll be fine. We’ll have Erebor back. Thorin will march up and glare Smaug into submission, or Bilbo will tell him off until the overgrown lizard packs his bags and goes back from where he came.”  
  
Fíli snorted. “I’m not looking forward to sending Bilbo inside the mountain, and I’ll hazard a guess regarding how my uncle is feeling about it.”  
  
“I poked my head into their rooms last night. After knocking loudly,” Bofur added at Fíli’s raised eyebrow. “Bilbo is starting to feel better again; the cough’s mostly gone, so we’ll be moving on soon enough I’ll wager.”  
  
“Has he gotten over the things he said after Óin had given him those herbs?” Fíli asked with a grin.  
  
It had been _hilarious_.  
  
When Thorin had bellow for their healer loud enough for the entire inn to hear, the company had naturally assumed that Bilbo had taken a turn for the worst and rushed upstairs. But instead of a deathly-ill Hobbit they found a really loopy one who was waxing poetic about Thorin’s 'fluffy, roughy beard' and cornflower blue eyes.

It was hard to say who had been more embarrassed, Thorin at that very moment, or Bilbo the next day when the herbs had worn off.  
  
Bilbo probably won, because Fíli wagered that part of Thorin had been smug over how infatuated Bilbo had sounded, at least when he wasn’t muttering about Thorin being a blond or something strange like that. As far as compliments went, Fíli had especially enjoyed the part about Thorin’s feet being small and cute, even if they lacked a bit of hair. Unfortunately they'd all been forced to leave before Bilbo had finished telling them about why Thorin's fingers could be compared to rainbows.  
  
“Let’s just say that I didn’t ask because I didn’t feel like being incinerated by Thorin’s glare,” Bofur said. “Really, that’s a deadly weapon that is. But Bilbo had stopped blushing, that much I can tell you.”  
  
“Thorin was going to talk to the Master today,” Fíli said, looking back at Lake-town. “Can’t say that I trust that one.”  
  
“Makes two of us and probably 14 in total,” Bofur mused. “Or at least 13, not sure if Bilbo’s met him yet. But he’s been helpful, you can’t argue with that.”  
  
Fíli grunted something noncommittally and wrapped his arms around Bofur’s waist.  
  
For several more minutes they stood together, just looking at Erebor off in the distance.  
  
“Home,” Fíli said again, this time with more certainty and Bofur turned his head to smile at him.  
  
“Home,” he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think they'll leave for Erebor the next chapter. Things that's happened in the background that we've missed due to Fíli and Bofur using most of their stay in Lake-town by making up for all the privacy they didn't have together ever since leaving Beorn's halls, is Thorin talking to the Master about boring things, with Bard about Dragons and with merchants about supplies. It's not easy being King.  
> But now that Fíli's finally crawled out of bed he might be useful. (Yes, Bofur, I'm sure you think he's been useful this far as well.)


	74. It's Not Madness If There's Method In It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein we again discuss Dwarven culture, Bombur still hasn't learnt when to shut up, but Thorin is getting better at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is pretty much what I tell myself after every update.  
> Look, a Friday update! Neat! And I’ll admit to expecting to reach 40k hits with this update, going by how many peeps usually stop by, so that’s pretty exciting as well. I want to give a too long hug to be socially acceptable to everyone who is still reading. <3

“I can’t wait to get out of this town,” Kíli murmured as they were eating breakfast.  
  
Fíli raised an eyebrow and turned to look at his brother. “Yes, it’s horrible here,” the blond said drily, gesturing down at the abundance of food on the table. “Every night I cry myself to sleep, wishing to be back with the spiders and the Elves. Bofur complains every morning about the wet bedding.” He paused. "I'm glad Bombur didn't hear that."  
  
“At least the Spiders and Elves were honest,” Kíli muttered and Fíli tilted his head in confusion.  
  
“Never mind,” Kíli said. “We can speak about it later.”  
  
It was the second to last day that they would spend in Lake-town.  It _would_ have been the very last, but the Master had requested that they’d stay for a celebration, and Thorin hadn’t been able to say no without sounding very ungrateful and rude.  
  
Normally, this wouldn’t exactly have stopped him, but both Bilbo, Balin and Bofur had intervened as to not immediately cause offence to their new allies. Which meant that that same night there would be a huge feast for the whole town, and the next day they would spend resting (read: nursing aching heads and stomachs) and preparing to leave the morning of the following day.  
  
The final leg of their journey to Erebor would only take them two days as they had been offered ponies by the Master, and then they would at last be at the foot of the Lonely Mountain.  
  
When Fíli had been about thirty, a wandering bard at stayed with them for a while in Ered Luin. Now forty years later Fíli couldn’t quite remember what the bard had looked like; only bits and pieces remained in his memory. Dark hair, a pointed beard and moustache, and a ring in one ear. He’d been a rather odd one, that much Fíli remembered, with a fondness for large collars and lace. But he’d been a good storyteller. The stories and songs that he’d shared had ranged from the deepest despair to the silliest comedy. And he’d loved romantic tales. At the time Fíli had preferred the funny stories because they made his mother laugh; something she’d done little of ever since his father had died, or maybe the stories with lots of sword fighting and blood, because he had only been thirty after all.  
  
But when Fíli thought about how they would soon be at the gates of a Erebor, their rightful home which had been outside their reach for so long, the thought that appeared in his mind was _not_ one of brave warriors fighting Dragons like in bard's stories. Instead it was a single line:

 _‘journeys end in lovers' meeting’,_  
  
a sentence that the bard had claimed was an honest truth.  
  
Fíli had entirely forgotten the story in which he'd mentioned it, so it struck him as odd that those words would suddenly come flying into his mind. Especially since they really couldn't be true, or their journey would have ended a lot sooner. And there would have been no Dragons involved.  
  
“That’s an awfully serious face for breakfast,” Bofur said as he sat down next to Fíli.  
  
“You do not think breakfast to be a serious matter?” Fíli asked with a raised eyebrow. “Your brother will be crushed.”  
  
“My brother has, ever since he lost most of his memories from the last few months, been even more annoying than normal considering that he’s forgotten that he’s already used most of the jokes that he now ‘treats’ me to,” Bofur said, shaking his head. “I think a slight pinch of crushing would suit him fine. Just a pinch, mind you.”  
  
“Just make up something that’ll shut him up,” Kíli suggested. “Tell him that he’s forgotten about proposing to one of the Elves in Rivendell or something and blackmail him with that. Tell him…” Kíli frowned. “I’m not sure what’ll be worse, them accepting or them spurning him.”  
  
“Little brothers,” Fíli said with a shrug when Bofur looked at him for help. “They’re devious like that,as you should know.”  
  
Soon enough the rest of the company trickled in to have breakfast. Dwalin arrived last of all, something that made Kíli look smug, and Fíli refused to consider the implications of that, because that way: _madness_.  
  
They were just finishing up when Kíli stretched out his arm behind Ori to poke Dwalin on the shoulder. The big Dwarf turned his head, one brow raised in question.  
  
“Dwalin would you braid my hair?” Kíli asked, and Fíli dropped his spoon.

“You want me to braid your hair,” Dwalin said deliberately, and Kíli nodded.

“I want you to braid my hair.”

Dwalin rose slowly from the table and Kíli also got to his feet. The reactions of the Company ranged from the utterly confused; Bilbo, to the utterly shocked; Fíli, and the surprisingly misty eyed; Thorin.

“I have the feeling that I’ve just missed something,” Bilbo said after the two had gone and most of the remaining Dwarfs had broken out in excited chatter.

“Braiding is a sign of trust, lad,” Balin explained. “Allowing some to braid your hair is allowing them access to your throat and neck. If they harbour you ill will, they could just as easily slit your throat or strangle you as actually giving you braids.”  
  
“Ah, I see,” Bilbo said, in a tone that implied that he did not. Fíli was still kinda stuck himself, because Kíli _never_ braided his hair, much to the despair of their mother. That he would ask Dwalin to do so now...

“Some of our kind view hair braiding as good as marriage, or at least a commitment,” Bofur said. “But that’s mostly for the folks who live in the south. They’ve always been a little more rash like that.”  
  
“But I've seen Kíli braid Dwalin's beard,” Bilbo said. “And that didn’t make all of you start gossiping. Oh don’t try to deny it,” he added when he received offended glares. “I have ears.”

“He’s not returned the favour though, has he,” Glóin said, and Óin nodded.  
  
“How many times how you seen our young prince with braids in his hair?”  
  
Bilbo opened his mouth, closed it again, frowned.

"Braids can be a sign that you belong with someone,” Dori said. “They can mean many things, or they can just be something you enjoy. But to ask a lover to braid your hair is considered very intimate. Especially if you've previously worn your hair without decorations. Or if you ask for it to be done in a completely new way.”  
  
“It really is like tumbling with someone,” Bombur grinned. “What,” he protested when eyebrows were raised. “That can also mean a lot of things, or it’s just for fun. And you can braid your own hair, just as you can rub your own co-”  
  
“Thank you, Bombur,” Dori interrupted. “We take your point.”  
  
“I’d love for you to take my point,” Bombur said and winked, and Bofur looked like he really was contemplating bringing up the fake Elven marriage. The conversation drifted to other topics, like if Dori was allowed to throw Bombur in the lake, (Bombur claimed he still had horrible memories of falling into the river, which considering the resulting memory loss wasn't really believed) but the subject of braids was not forgotten by all.

Glancing at Thorin Bilbo touched the braid that was already beginning to unravel in his curly hair. Thorin tried his very best to look innocent (it was not what you would call a success). Fíli didn’t quite know why his uncle tried to look innocent. Sure, he’d braided Bilbo’s hair before they’d officially began their courting, but it wasn't like Thorin had tried to marry Bilbo without asking first. It might be the way in the south, but it was not theirs. And Bilbo had braided Thorin’s hair back, so whatever had been going on, it clearly had been mutual.

Not that Bilbo looked upset, merely… thoughtful. But it seemed to make his uncle rather nervous nonetheless.

“Ah, to eat or not to eat more,” Bombur said, looking down at what remained on his plate. “That is the question. I don’t want to spoil tonight’s feast.”

This pulled Bilbo out of his musings. “But that’s hours and hours away,” he said a bit shocked. “Aren’t you planning on having at least lunch, and tea as well?”

Considering that Bilbo had eaten nearly as much for breakfast as Bombur had this comment earned him an impressed glance from the Dwarf. “If I weren’t so happy being a Dwarf, I wouldn’t mind being a Hobbit,” he said.

“Well of course you wouldn't,” Bilbo said. “But I’m not quite sure that my neighbours would survive you.”  
  
Bombur adopted a wounded look. “Master Hobbit, why do you slight me so?”  
  
“Tell me, _Master Dwarf_ ,” Bilbo said drily. “What would your reply be if I invited you to _come_ for breakfast, asking you to bring a few _sausages_ and-“  
  
Bilbo got no further than that before Bombur started snickering. “I rest my case,” Bilbo finished.  
  
“Ah,” Bombur said after a few more seconds of merriment. “But since you _clearly_ know what I was thinking, does that not prove that I would fit right in?” He turned to the rest of the Dwarfs with a knowing smile. “Am I the only one who thinks that he protests a bit too much?”  
  
“You can’t win,” Bofur stage whispered to Bilbo. “Run while you still can.”  
  
-  
  
The feast that evening was good practice on how to be bored while not look like you were bored. The only ones who seemed to really enjoy themselves were Bilbo and Bombur as they focused mostly on eating, oh, and Óin, because he had conveniently ‘misplaced’ his hearing trumpet. And maybe Kíli and Dwalin as they didn't really have eyes for anyone except the other. (Kíli's braids might not have been as skillfully done as the ones in for example Dori's hair, but it didn't matter. Fíli still grinned stupidely every time he saw his baby brother touch them and smile, or when Dwalin couldn't stop looking at them.)  
  
Maybe Balin enjoyed himself too, because he’d always appeared to have an unnatural fondness for politics.  
  
Hmmm, it was possible that the dinner in Rivendell had actually been worse. But this still wasn't a barrel of laughs.  
  
Fíli couldn’t understand how the Master had acquired his rather impressive stoutness, because the Man never seemed to actually eat anything. Instead he just kept talking and talking and talking, mostly about how he was _sure_ that Thorin was not the type of person to forget old _friends_. And there was also more than one heavy-handed hint about how much he would appreciate it if some of the treasure of Erebor ended up in Lake-town.

All in all, Thorin spent most of the dinner looking like he’d rather be back in a burning tree.  
  
If Bilbo hadn’t poked at Fíli’s uncle every so often to distract him with a morsel of food to taste, or a question, Fíli was fairly sure that _someone_ would have ended with a loaf of bread shoved down their throat; be that something Thorin would have to himself to keep silent or to the Master for much the same purpose.

But as it were, everyone survived the dinner, so the next day they could indeed prepare themselves to leave.  
  
Supplies were collected, bags were packed, gear were checked carefully even though they’d already repaired everything that needed repairing. The day went quickly and the night as well, and soon it was morning and time to leave.  
  
As they were taken to the ponies it was realised that no one had thought to tell Bilbo that they would be riding bareback; because using saddles was not the way way of the people of Lake-town, and it had not been the way of the people of Dale either.  
  
“I’m not sure this is going to work,” Bilbo said, clutching at the pony’s mane. “I’ve not practiced riding enough for this.”  
  
“One word,” Thorin said darkly to Bombur as he opened his mouth. “And you are walking to Erebor.”  
  
After the second time Bilbo had almost slipped off the pony, they stopped to have him ride with Thorin. It didn’t really stop him from sliding to the side, but at least Thorin was very apt at righting him as soon as he began to tilt too much.

“The wheel’s come full circle,” Bofur commented to Fíli.  
  
“What wheel?”  
  
“It’s a symbolic one,” Bofur smiled. “We’re back again on ponies, and our burglar is again on the verge of falling off. Just like when we started. Hey, Bilbo!” he called ahead. “Did you remember to bring a handkerchief?”  
  
“Oh, no,” Bilbo moaned. “Why didn’t you remind me before!”  
  
“See,” Bofur told Fíli. “What did I tell you.”  
  
"I'm not sure I want to do this entire thing again," Fíli said drily.  
  
"Some parts have been awfully nice," Bofur said, his eyes crinkling in a warm smile.  
  
"True," Fíli murmured. "And if we stumble upon some hot springs I'm not going to complain. But there are other parts I'd rather not repeat."  
  
"And now you know how I feel about Bombur's jokes," Bofur said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, thanks for reading and I’m sorry for this chapter. ;) (but it’s not like it’s the first time I quote a certain bard in this story, so in a way, you were warned)
> 
> If you’re reading this story (um, duh) then let me plug another thing that I’ve written which is the Animal AUs series. Potentially, it’s got even *more* crack and fluff then this story. Less Bofur and Bombur so far though... But give me time and I’ll probably get a more even spread with all our favourite Dwarfs (which obviously means all of them).
> 
> If you’re still reading this author’s note you deserve a reward. Have some Kíli/Dwalin in a mini-interlude.
> 
> -
> 
> “It’s getting dark,” Kíli said softly.
> 
> “Aye,” Dwalin murmured, gently stroking his fingers along one of the braids he’d placed in Kíli’s hair the previous morning.
> 
> "Maybe we should sleep."
> 
> Dwalin hummed something vaguely consenting, but didn't stop his stroking, and after a while Kíli snorted and curled closer to the big Dwarf's side, tucking his face against Dwalin's chest.
> 
> "Well, I'm going to sleep anyway."
> 
> "You do that," Dwalin agreed, still caressing Kíli's hair. The steady movement was very soothing and it wasn't long before Kíli had drifted off with a smile on his face. Dwalin continued his slow touches until his eyes too fell closed.


	75. Serious Business, Yeah Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bombur decides to have a shovel talk, and Fíli and Bofur discuss genderbending and kidnapping of children. And then we end by discussing Bofur's bits.
> 
> A normal chapter like any other.

They didn’t find any hot springs, at least not on their first day. But Fíli hadn’t really expected any different, and he didn’t think they’d stumble cross any on the following day either.  
  
They’d made camp in the middle of nowhere, but it was still nowhere with a beautiful view of Erebor in the distance, which made it all that much better.  


While the lack of hot baths had not been unexpected, what Fíli _hadn’t_ expected was for Bombur to corner him alone (pretty impressive considering that there were no corners) and express his desire to discuss Fíli’s relationship with Bofur.  
  
“So, you’re marrying my brother?”  
  
Fíli raised an eyebrow. “Yes? Have you lost your memory again? Because I’m fairly sure Bofur told you about this when we were back in Mirkwood.”  
  
“But I have not had the chance to discuss it with _you_ ,” Bombur grinned. “Or rather, I do not remember discussing it with you, because I assume that at some point we did have words about it.”  
  
Fíli blinked. Had he and Bombur actually talked about it?  
  
The large Dwarf had been approving of Fíli’s courting almost right from the start, almost a little too approving considering that he'd seemed to be in favour long before Bofur was. The closest they’d come to discussing Fíli’s and Bofur’s intention to marry had been on the way to Mirkwood, when Bombur had declared that he considered a waste not to marry anyone with breasts, but that Bofur was still more than welcome to do as he pleased with the ‘boys’.  
  
Fíli’s confusion must have been apparent to Bombur, because he looked rather surprised himself.  
  
“Really? I’ve not threatened to commit treason by doing away with the heir to the throne if he hurt my brother?”  
  
“Well, no,” Fíli admitted. "I'm fairly sure I would have remembered that."  
  
“Huh.” Bombur scratched at his chin. “Well, you _are_ disgustingly sweet. Maybe I didn't have the heart.”  
  
“That you have mentioned,” Fíli said with a smile. “The sweet bit I mean. Apparently we make your teeth ache.”  
  
Bombur laughed loud enough that the ponies, standing a good distance away, looked around nervously.  
  
Fíli missed Beorn’s ponies, these were nice, but they were just animals. Being able to carry on a conversation with someone did more to help getting to know someone than what riding them did. (And he was not saying that out loud when Bombur was around.)  
  
“I _am_ funny!” Bombur chuckled. “But I don’t think we need to discuss that.”  
  
Fíli, very wisely, said nothing.  
  
“Regardless of what I may or may not have said before,” Bombur said, still smiling happily. “I hope you know that if you do hurt my brother, beyond what I’ll allow as normal-“  
  
“I’m not going to hurt Bofur,” Fíli protested.  
  
“So you’re never going to accidentally say something you didn’t mean, forget to – I don’t know, forget his day of birth, or accidentally  take him without enough oil?”  
  
“Bombur!” Fíli hissed. “I’m not discussing that with you.”  
  
“What, you don’t like birthdays?” The redheaded Dwarf looked innocent, but only for a few seconds before the grin came out again.  
  
“I don’t see why harming someone physically, be it an accident, would be _more_ offensive than you doing something that will hurt his feelings. I’d say that people are more likely to _intentionally_ hurt each other’s’ feelings and cause lasting damage than they are to accidentally cause lasting damage by enjoying each other in bed.” Bombur waggled his eyebrows. “Or what _are_ you doing together?”  
  
Fíli crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed that he and Bombur was about of an height which meant that he couldn’t glare down at the other Dwarf. He could still glare _at_ him though.

“Fine,” Bombur raised his hands. “You’re pretty and all, but you’ve not go nearly enough padding in the chest and hip area to be my type anyway. I can live with the mystery.” Then Bombur’s face turned uncharacteristically serious. “But I do expect you to do your best to make my brother happy, and I also expect you to succeed. If you don’t-“ Bombur shrugged. “Then we’ll continue this talk and it won’t be nearly as pleasant.”  
  
“This was pleasant?” Fíli quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“Exactly!” Bombur grinned, once again back to his usual happy self. “Just imagine what I’d tell you if I was upset with you.”  
  
Fíli… rather preferred not to do that.

-  
  
Later that night, when he was alone (as much as they could be alone staying within eyesight of each other) Fíli told Bofur what he and Bombur had been talking about.  
  
He and Bofur had sat down on a patch of grass a short distance away from the camp fire; fairly close to where the ponies were grazing.  
  
“Mahal,” Bofur dragged a hand over his face. “I’ll- well I’ll not kill him, he’s my brother, but I’ll think of something.”  
  
“Did Kíli, say something similar to you?” Fíli asked, wondering if this was something little brothers did.  
  
“No. Why? Did you have a talk with Dwalin?”  
  
“No.” Fíli glanced over to where his brother and Dwalin were curled together by the fire. “Do you think I should?”  
  
“Do you think Dwalin want to hurt you brother or do you think that Kíli can’t take care of himself?”  
  
“I-, no.”  
  
Bofur shrugged. “Then I guess he didn’t think I’d want to hurt you, nor that you wouldn’t let me know if I did. Unlike some I could mention,” Bofur added with a glare in his brother’s direction. “And I’m his _older_ brother. I shudder to think what he’d said if I’d been the youngest in the family.”  
  
“It was kinda sweet, in a very weird way,” Fíli said in an attempt to not have Bofur storm off right there and then to yell at Bombur. He rather preferred to have him stay right where he was, pressed close against his side. “And to be fair he’s not known me for very long, or he has, but he’s forgotten it.”  
  
“True,” Bofur said slowly, tilting his head down to rest on Fíli’s shoulder. “But he’s still an obnoxious little shite.”  
  
“Only, not so little,” Fíli said and nudged his shoulder into Bofur’s.  
  
“True again,” Bofur agreed. He sounded less upset, and when Fíli turned his head to look at him he was actually smiling. “I do hope Bombur finds a lass he wants to marry. Not in the least because I hope there is some way I can tease him about it.”  
  
“Do you, want children?” Fíli asked, his thoughts having been led there by the notion of Bombur marrying a girl, and Bofur’s smile turned into something more incredulous.  
  
“Fíli, we can’t have children. And just to be sure you’ve not forgotten, neither can Bilbo. I don’t think he’d let your beard go unharmed if you brought up the subject again, and I’m fairly partial to it.”  
  
Fíli snorted. “I know. I just- Marrying a girl isn’t the only way to get a kid.”  
  
“When you told Dwalin not to kidnap any little ones for Bilbo and Thorin, I didn’t think you were planning on nabbing some for yourself.”  
  
“Yes, that is exactly what I intend to do,” Fíli said drily. “Right after I declare Thorin unfit to rule and sometime before I throw Kíli in the dungeons. My love, you know me so well.”  
  
Bofur chuckled. “Explain then. But I hope none of us have to sleep with a lass either. That would-”  
  
“No,” Fíli interrupted, wrinkling his nose. “No, that’s not what I meant either. I couldn’t. Not unless Gandalf had somehow managed to turn _you_ into a girl.” The blond looked considering. “Do you think..?”  
  
“ _No_ ,” Bofur said flatly. “I’m liking all my bits where I currently have them, thank you.”  
  
“I like them too,” Fíli said, sliding his arm around Bofur’s waist. “And mine as well, just to be clear. But if you change your mind, I’m sure I’d love you no matter what you looked like.”  
  
Fíli jumped when Bofur pinched his thigh. “Hey, don’t make me ask Kíli to talk to you about not hurting me.”  
  
“I don’t want to be a lass,” Bofur said firmly. “And I don’t want to turn you into one either.”  
  
“Afraid Bombur would steal me away if I had breasts?” Fíli twisted his legs away when Bofur’s hand sought out his thigh again. “All right, no lasses. That wasn’t what I had in mind anyway.”

Grumbling Bofur slid his arm around Fíli’s shoulders.  
  
“I was just thinking, sometimes there are children who have no parents and no family to take care of them. We could. Take care of them I mean. If you wanted to.”  
  
“Is that what you want?”  
  
“I asked first,” Fíli said and tapped his fingers against Bofur’s side.  
  
“I like children,” Bofur admitted. “I’d not mind having them. Even if they weren’t really ours, because they would still be. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah.” Fíli inched a little closer to Bofur. “I do. I only see one downside with it.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“They won’t grow up to be as handsome as their fathers,” Fíli smirked, and Bofur snorted.  
  
“Terrible,” he said. “And by that I mean that joke.”  
  
“What?” Fíli asked innocently. “It was not long ago that you told me that I was the prettiest Dwarf you’d seen. Have you already changed your mind.”  
  
“I wonder if a sense of humour is something you get by blood or if it’s something you learn,” Bofur mused with sparkling eyes. “I would hope it is the former. Then there would be hope. If only a slight one considering the company they would have to keep. Bad habits are like fleas, my mum used to say.”  
  
Looking like that, all teasing smile and crinkly eyes Bofur was very handsome, and Fíli felt the need to kiss him, so he did.  
  
“I wish we had some privacy so we could go and not make babies,” he whispered when he pulled back.  
  
It took Bofur a second to understand, but then he chuckled.  
  
“Takes lots of practice I hear,” he said as he cupped Fíli’s cheek. “To have a baby. You can’t expect it to happen right away.”

“I’m very distraught to hear that,” Fíli said, trying to supress the smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “So what you’re saying is that when we do have more privacy, we should make sure to practice as often as we can at not having a baby?”  
  
“I can only imagine it’ll increase our chances,” Bofur nodded solemnly.  
  
“I love you,” Fíli murmured. Because he did. So why not say it.  
  
“Love you too, even if you are a bit daft.” Bofur grinned. “But I guess that’s part of your charm.”  
  
“So we’re having children? _getting enchanted by Gandalf?”_  
  
“Aye, if you want to.”  
  
“I already said I did.”  
  
Bofur smiled warmly at him. “Then we’re having them. _Without_ losing any bits in the process.”  
  
“I like this plan,” Fíli said. “I like your bits too.”  
  
“Yes, you said that.”  
  
“Can’t be said often enough,” Fíli grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned that I love getting comments? I love getting comments. [mention.]
> 
> Oh look, I have mentioned it. I wonder why. *wink wink nudge nudge*
> 
> Bombur: I sense winking and nudging!
> 
> Author: Nothing to see here, move along.
> 
> Bombur: You tease. *notices that the author is not wearing trousers* Well, hello.
> 
> *Suddenly Bombur is the size of an apple.*
> 
> Author: Do not mess with the one who controls your destiny. 
> 
> Bombur: (squeakily) It's not the size that counts!
> 
> Author: *facepalms*


	76. Winter Is Not Coming Because It Forgot To Make Reservations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, remember when this quest started about 160k words ago? They were going somewhere. They're still going somewhere. Only, now they are actually going to get there.
> 
> Also, there are lots of talking, because riding gets boring. (Bombur, stop giggling)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is my title related to the chapter? I'm not sure, so I'm going to blame Bombur on general principle. Though it's probably not dirty enough... Um, Winter Is Not Coming And Will Have Blue Balls?

The sky above was blue and vast and wonderful. The ground, not so much. Not that Fíli expected it to be _blue_ , but now that they were only a day’s ride from Erebor it was clear how much damage the Dragon Smaug had dealt to the surrounding landscape.  
  
The grass was no longer green, but instead brown and brittle. The trees were slim and twisted, and while there was the occasional sighting of wildlife, they did not look content either. The ponies also seemed more nervous, and again Fíli missed the dear creatures that had carried them to Mirkwood.

“You know what the best bit about going up against Smaug will be,” Fíli said to Bofur as they rode side by side. “After facing a Dragon, I don’t think anything will be scary anymore.”  
  
“Not _as_ scary perhaps,” Bofur had said thoughtfully. “If I’ve faced a Dragon then I’m guessing that telling a crowd of nobles that I’m stealing their prince will not seem nearly as scary. But I’d rather have another go with those damned Spiders. Those I’m allowed to draw a blade on.”  
  
“You’re not _stealing_ me.”  
  
“Ah, but you don’t deny my point about the spiders?”  
  
Fíli… could not. So he changed the subject.

“Do you think we’ll arrive at the foot of the mountain already before sunset?”  
  
Bofur gave him a look that made it clear that he was not fooled, but kind soul that he was, he went along with it anyway.  
  
“Not unless we gallop for a while, and I don’t know if we can do that without either Thorin or Bilbo falling off their pony.”  
  
“Why would Thorin fall off?” Fíli’s uncle was a very good rider.  
  
“I could tell you, but you probably don’t want to hear it.”  
  
Fíli turned his head to look at Bofur and raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Well,” Bofur said. “Imagine how tightly he would have to hold Bilbo to keep him from falling, and then imagine what happens when you have someone you hold in the _highest_ regards bouncing up and down in your lap.”  
  
“ _Bofur_ ,” Fíli protested.  
  
“I told you.”  
  
“Suddenly the family resemblance between you and Bombur is very apparent,” Fíli said, trying to force his face to stop looking like he’d just bit into a lemon. It was all because of the mental image Bofur had presented, but he didn’t want his fiancé to take it personally.  
  
Bofur snickered. “Ah, but if I had been my brother, I would just have said-“  
  
“Thank you, that I _definitely_ don’t want to hear.”  
  
“You know what I just figured out,” Bofur said after a while. “I might not be able to defend myself against snobby nobles with steel, but I can always introduce them to Bombur. Or do you think your uncle would dislike this idea?”  
  
“Not if he is allowed to borrow Bombur from time to time,” Fíli shook his head. “Really, no one is going to care who I am marrying once they figure out who uncle is marrying. Luckily enough for everyone involved, neither Thorin nor myself could give a damn what other people think.” The blond paused. “When I said everyone involved, I meant all who is not, as you said; ‘snobby nobles’. They're never happy anyway.”  
  
“I’ll just worry about your mother then.”  
  
“Mother? She’ll love you.” Fíli’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”  
  
Bofur looked worried. “Do you think she won’t like me after all?”  
  
“No, she’ll love you,” Fíli said distractedly. “But she’s going to want to adopt _Bombur_. No offence to your brother, but I was rather looking forward to some time without him around.”

“I see what you mean,” Bofur said with a grimace. “And I take your point and raise you an entire life.”  
  
“So, we’re back to eloping?”  
  
“What if Thorin weds us,  and then we elope? Does that work?”  
  
Fíli smiled at Bofur. “Can I say, ‘as long as I’m with you everything works’? Or is that a bit too much?”  
  
Bofur snorted. “I’m afraid my family ties with Bombur is showing again, because all I can think of less than appropriate comments.”

“Bit too much then. I love you?” Fíli tried.  
  
“Love you too, my daft prince.”  
  
“Better than a snobby noble?”  
  
“Much.”  
  
-  
  
“Brother, are we _entirely_ sure that Bilbo cannot get with child?”  
  
“Ask _him_ this question, I dare you,” Fíli replied.  
  
“Fine,” Kíli sulked. They rode in silence for a while, then Fíli sighed.  
  
“Might I ask why you’re still thinking about this?”  
  
“No particular reason,” Kíli said. They rode in silence for another while longer. “Okay,” Kíli said. “So when we were in Lake-town, I still couldn’t bear the thought of eating an egg. And I would very much like for that to not have been an _entirely_ unnecessary trauma.”  
  
Fíli really missed his old pony. Now there was no one to trade an exasperated glance with when Bofur was not around.  
  
"Are we there yet?" Kíli said after another period of silence.  
  
-  
  
“Come to threaten me some more?” Fíli asked when Bombur rode up next to him.  
  
“Nah,” Bombur replied. “You’re all right. Unless you’ve managed to harm my brother in any way since our conversation?”  
  
Fíli just glared at the other Dwarf. “Good,” Bombur said. “Then we are fine. I actually came to say thank you.”  
  
“You’re welcome?” Fíli blinked. “ What did I do?”  
  
“Bofur’s always wanted kids,” Bombur said with a shrugged, as if that explained it. And well, it kinda did.  
  
“If Bofur realises you’re being overprotective again, he’s going to yell at you,” Fíli warned.  
  
“How is this being overprotective?” Bombur protested.  
  
“So if I had declared yesterday that I under no circumstances wanted to have children, you wouldn’t be here, talking more ‘unpleasantly’ at me?”  
  
“That’s not fair, I can’t be judged for something I haven’t done,” Bombur grumbled.   
  
“Do you want Bofur to judge you on the things you _did_ do?” Fíli asked.  
  
“… Fair point,” Bombur admitted after a brief silence.  
  
-  
  
“Are we there yet?” Kíli asked.  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
-  
  
At noon they stopped briefly to eat and so that Bombur could switch ponies and  ride on the pony that was not carrying Bilbo. And which wasn’t carrying anyone else either, because really, most of the ponies were decidedly void of Hobbits. Then they set out again.  
  
Then they had to stop, because apparently Thorin couldn’t keep his mouth shut.  
  
“Halt!” Thorin called, not sounding the least bit pleased.

 As soon as they stopped Bilbo squirmed down from the pony he’d shared with Thorin and walked up to Bofur.   
  
“Can I ride with you?”  
  
“Of course,” Bofur said, a little confused. “But-“  
  
“Great,” Bilbo cut him off. He fidgeted a little. “So how do I get up on this thing?”  
  
Bofur slid down and helped Bilbo up, then swung himself onto the pony’s back. Already Bilbo had begun to tilt a little to the side.  
  
Fíli moved his pony up to where Thorin was.  
  
“What happened?” he asked his uncle.  
  
“I tried to explain that he do not need to go anywhere near the Dragon,” Thorin muttered. “I have never seen someone so adamant to risk their own life.”

“Um, pot, kettle,” Fíli said.  
  
The look Thorin shot him was almost injured and Fíli had to bite his tongue not to smile, because it was also rather adorable.  
  
“He’s got a magic ring that makes him invisible,” Fíli said, trying to cheer his uncle up. “And I’m sure you of all people have not failed to notice how Bilbo keep doing the unexpected, even the impossible.”  
  
Thorin hummed. “I wish I could have seen the look on the Elves’ faces once they noticed that we were gone.”  
  
“And if something would go wrong, would you really want the last words exchanged between you to have been something like this?”  
  
“Are you suggesting that I should let him risk his life just so that he would not die while upset at me?” Thorin frowned. “Do you _not_ hear the folly in that?”  
  
“Uncle,” Fíli lowered his voice. “I dislike the idea of Bilbo being alone with a Dragon as much as you do. If it was Bofur I’m sure I’d also be busy plotting all the ways not to have him do it, I won’t tell you otherwise. But that’s the only plan we have. You know someone needs to go inside Erebor and first of all see if the Dragon is still alive. Bilbo is quiet on his feet, perhaps even more than Nori, and as I mentioned, he can turn himself invisible. And Smaug will not know him by scent.”  
  
Thorin muttered something beneath his breath that Fíli was glad he didn’t quite hear.  
  
“I’m not sure if I’m proud or annoyed that my nephew shows such wisdom,” he said finally.  
  
“I will put my vote to ‘proud’,” Fíli said with a small smile, which Thorin returned.  
  
“Proud it is then. But I still don’t like the thought of Bilbo-“ Thorin trailed off.  
  
“Do you like the thought of anyone of us doing it? Because I know I don’t. But it’s our only way.”  
  
Again, Fíli was glad he didn’t hear what Thorin was muttering.  
  
-  
  
They rode on for a while after evening had fallen, but it soon got too dark for them to continue without risking to injure the ponies. The terrain was fairly flat, but all it would take was one misstep and a leg, or more, would be broken.  
  
It was a cloudy night, and the dark was indeed _very_ dark without any stars to shine their way.  
  
It was dark enough that Erebor was no longer visible, but somehow Fíli could still say just where she was.  
  
Thorin and Bilbo had a slightly tense conversation some distance away from the campfire, while everyone listened in and pretended that they weren’t doing exactly that.  
  
As it wasn’t the first time they discussed what Bilbo would need to do once they found a way inside Erebor, Fíli only listened to them  with one ear. The other he had pressed against Bofur’s chest as they curled up together by the fire.  
  
A surprise to no one; his uncle and Bilbo made up, quite enthusiastically going by the sound of Kíli’s protests, and the night turned into one of the most peaceful nights they’d had ever since leaving the Shire.  
  
When morning came everyone was eager to leave. Or rather, everyone was eager to finally _arrive_. And arrive they did.   
  
About an hour after they’d packed up their camp, they halted their ponies by a massive gateway built into the side of the mountain.   
  
It might not be their way in, but still, they had _finally_ reached Erebor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. Now they only need to get a way in, and then...  
> Um, are we sure we *want* them to get into Erebor? Maybe they can just go and have tea somewhere, call it a day?  
> no? 
> 
> *sigh*
> 
> Well, I'm putting my faith in my tags just as much as I expect that you do.


	77. The Chase Is On!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Considering that doors can't actually move, this shouldn't be a problem, right?

The setting sun was low on the horizon painting the landscape in reddish-gold. 

Nothing moved. 

From their viewpoint up on the southern slopes of the mountain, Thorin’s company could see the ruins of Dale in the valley below. They had not gone through the once-a-town the day before, instead passing well on the outskirts of it. Now Fíli was glad that they hadn't  bothered with the detour.

"It's-" Fíli turned to Bofur and tried to find the right words. "I've never seen a town look _dead_ before. It looks like just the bare bones are left.”  
  
Bofur shivered and tightened the arm he had around Fíli’s waist. “That’s such a comforting thought, it’ll put me _right_ to sleep tonight.”  
  
“Oh,” Fíli said a bit guiltily, and Bofur turned to smile at him.  
  
“It’s all right, I’ll just laze about tomorrow instead - blaming sleep deprivation, when the rest of your run around on the mountain to look for this hidden door.”  
  
“Hey,” Bombur protested. “That was my plan.” The big Dwarf looked thoughtful. “I call taking care of the ponies then.”  
  
Protests came from around the camp.  
  
“It’s only sensible,” Bombur explained. “Imagine if I tripped and fell, not only would the resulting crash be loud enough to wake a sleeping Dragon, I would also likely roll down the entire slope of the mountain and not stop until I was back in Lake-town again.”  
  
“Don’t mention the D-word,” Kíli hissed.  
  
“I don't think that your D-word and my D-word is not the same thing,” Bombur said with a smirk. Kíli looked confused.  
  
“Don’t explain that,” Fíli interrupted. “Seriously.”  
  
“What?” Bombur said innocently. “I was talking about dinner, nothing else.”  
  
-  
  
The next day they relocated their camp to the western slopes of the mountain as that side had some grass for their ponies to dine on. This also spared them from looking at the remains of the human city, but instead offered a less than lovely view of Mirkwood.  
  
In the early morning mists, the forest looked sinister indeed, and none of the Dwarfs (and not Bilbo either) were sad that they were no longer trapped inside it. Even if their method of escape could have been improved on.  
  
“Apple?” Ori offered Fíli who shook his head and tried not to think about being stuck in a barrel that tumbled every which way, and how the scent of apples now brought on an almost immediate wriggle of nausea in his stomach.  
  
Kíli snickered but quieted when Fíli hissed the word “ _Eggs_.” to him.  
  
Despite his words the day before, Bofur tagged along as Fíli explored the side of the mountain, looking for anything that might be a doorway.  
  
They’d all split up in pairs of two or three to cover more ground, apart from Bombur who had indeed volunteered to stay with the ponies.  
  
“Fíli, come here!” Bofur called. 

“Did you find something?” Fíli asked as he climbed down from a rock ledge.  
  
“Yeah, _something_ ,” Bofur said where he stood crouched down beside a narrow crack going down in the mountain. “Come here and hold out your hand over this crack.”  
  
“Back at camp Bombur is now giggling without knowing why,” Fíli murmured as he did what Bofur told him. “What am I- _oh_.”  
  
“Yeah, feel that?” Fíli definitely did. Warm air was coming from the ground; from inside the mountain. It smelled faintly of rotten eggs and ash.  
  
“I don’t think we can hope that the Dragon has done as all a favour and quietly died,” Bofur said slowly.  
  
“No,” Fíli agreed. “No we can’t.”  
  
-  
  
When they compared findings with the others, no one had discovered the door, but Bofur wasn’t the only one who had felt hot air coming from below, and Balin had even seen steam.

Fíli didn’t think that any of them had really believed that it would be so easy, that the Dragon would really already be dead, but he also believed that most of them had still hoped that it _could_ be that easy.  
  
What Thorin thought of the entire thing was easy enough to see in the way his hand was clenched tightly in Bilbo’s jacket; knuckles white and the Hobbit practically in his lap.  
  
If he hadn’t already liked and admired their little burglar, Fíli would certainly do so now.  
  
Not only because he was putting up with Thorin’s behaviour in a frankly commendably way, but he was also the only one in the Company who seemed to take this news of Smaug being alive completely without a lingering sense of frustration.  He looked... calm. Determined. So very different from how he had started out this quest what with the fretting and the-  
  
“Ah!” Suddenly  Bilbo yelped and scrambled to his feet.  
  
“What?” Thorin growled hand going to his sword. “What is-“  
  
“There was a huge spider crawling up my leg,” Bilbo said as he did an awkward little dance, hopping from foot to foot. “ _Huge_!”  
  
“Um, Bilbo,” Bofur said. “You’ve seen truly huge spiders, and I don’t think this was one of them or we would have seen it as well.”  
  
“Those weren’t trying to get into my trousers,” Bilbo protested and shivered. “I could feel all the legs. All of them!”  
  
“Speaking about getting into someone’s trousers,” Bombur said casually.  
  
“No, we’re not,” Thorin said firmly.  
  
-

They spent three more days exploring the mountain without finding anything. Durin’s day was now only two days away. 

Settling in for the night Fíli rubbed his nose against Bofur's who wrinkled his and laughed.  
  
“What’s this then?”

“I just love you, that’s all.”  
  
“You make it sound like such a small thing,” Bofur murmured.  
  
“Does he have a big thing then?” Bombur called, prompting laughs from most of the Company, and groans of protests from Kíli.  
  
“I remember something,” Fíli mused. “I think it was called ‘privacy’.”  
  
“Yes, that sounds vaguely familiar,” Bofur agreed.  
  
-  
  
The next day Bilbo discovered steps set carved into the side of the mountain. Fíli and Kíli had been keeping him company (Thorin had pretty much told them to do so after he’d gone off to speak to Balin) so they’d been nearby, and when he called they were quick to scurry to his side.  
  
“This has to lead somewhere,” Kíli murmured as they tried to see where the steps led.. “Somewhere important I mean, because all paths lead _somewhere_.”  
  
The path took them to a ledge clinging to the side of the rocky wall. It curved across an outcropping of rock, disappearing from their sight.  
  
“So,” Bilbo said. “I think we better get the others.”  
  
“Why?” Fíli asked. “We should follow it, see where it leads.”  
  
“This is like the Trolls all over again,” Bilbo murmured. “Close to it anyway. Just imagine what happens _if_ we follow it, and it goes on for another good while, and meanwhile everyone else is wondering where we’ve disappeared to. And the ledge might not even be safe to travel on anymore. I should go first since I’m the lightest, but I’d rather have a rope tied to me nonetheless should something happen.”  
  
Fíli and Kíli exchanged a look. “Good point,” Fìli said.  
  
“Yes,” Kíli nodded.  
  
-  
  
After a bit of fussing and climbing (but thankfully no falling) everyone but Bifur and Bombur had edged along the ledge to find the end of the path. The cousins had opted to stay with the ponies.  
  
They didn’t find a door, not exactly. But they found a cave, of sorts... because it didn’t actually have a roof. The blue sky was visible above, butt it wasn’t exactly a passage way either, like the one they're escaped into the get away from the Orcs and which had led them to Rivendell, because while the middle bit was without roof, the sides expanded into an area that was shielded from above by the overhang of cliffs.  
  
At the end of the not-cave the mountain rose up in a smooth, flat wall. Much too smooth and perfect to be a natural occurrence and when Bofur banged his hands against it he claimed he could sense a hollow area behind it.  None of the others were miners, as such they took his words for it.  
  
They’d found the place where the door should be, but as the wall had neither joints nor hinges to be seen they were still at loss for what to do.  
  
“Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the keyhole,” Balin murmured.  
  
“What keyhole?” Dwalin muttered, running a big hand over the smooth stone. “There’s nothing here. It’s as even as if a master mason had built it.”  
  
“Maybe we should catch some birds and knock them against the stone?” Kíli suggested. Dwalin shrugged and stepped back.  
  
“Couldn’t hurt.”  
  
“Yes it could,” Bilbo protested. “It could hurt the _birds_.”  
  
Fíli wrapped his arm around Bofur's shoulders. "We'll think of something."  
  
"I already did," Kíli protested.


	78. What's In A Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussions about birds, and about other things. Eggs, rabbits, names and such.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I ended up not being at home for the entire weekend, but yay, managed to write this just now anyway. I've been fairly consistent about an update/week, don't want to change that.
> 
> Hopefully I'll update some other stories tomorrow, but now I'm going to sleep.

Sunset came and night fell, no door showed up and unfortunately no one could think of a better plan than Kíli’s to make it happen, and Bilbo still adamantly refused to consider the suggestion Fíli's brother had made regarding the birds.  
  
“It’s ‘when the thrush knocks’,” the Hobbit protested. “Not ‘when a stubborn Dwarf bashes the poor thing’s head  against a rock and kills it because he's an idiot’.”  
  
“All I’m saying is that it’s Durin’s Day tomorrow,” Kíli pouted. “We should try all possible options.”  
  
“All possible options? Then perhaps Lord Elrond misread and it wasn’t a thrush after all,” Bilbo said with a glare. “Are you planning on spending tomorrow gathering all birds you can find and-“  
  
“This discussion is pointless,” Nori sighed. “It’s too dark to go bird hunting anyway.”  
  
“Tell me you were not considering it,” Bilbo said, covering his eyes  with one hand.  
  
“I wasn’t considering it,” Nori said obediently and the Hobbit spread his fingers to peer through them.  
  
“Is that a lie?”  
  
“Would I lie to you?” Nori said innocently.  
  
“It’s a lie,” Bilbo stated with a sigh, slumping against Thorin’s side. Thorin gently patted him on the back.  
  
( _Patted_ , because ‘patted’ was a much better word than ‘stroked’ because connected to his uncle and Bilbo it lead to Fíli thinking unpleasant thoughts.)  
  
When Thorin murmured something into Bilbo’s ear that made the Hobbit melt even further against his side, Fíli determinedly looked elsewhere and was not very surprised to find that his gaze went in the direction he would have found Bofur in, had his gaze been able to curve downwards or see through stone.  
  
Bofur, Bombur and Bifur had volunteered to stay the night down with the ponies instead of up in the not-cave where the door was hopefully going to show up sooner rather than later.  
  
Fíli had been torn between going with Bofur and staying with his Uncle and Kíli. He imagined he must have looked rather like a pony caught between two patches of delicious green grass (that is, both patches having a _Dragon_ beneath them) because Bofur had cupped his face and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.  
  
“Stay with your uncle and brother tonight and I’ll stay with Bombur and Bifur,” Bofur had said softly. “Someone has to stay with the ponies, and…” Bofur paused briefly. “Bifur doesn’t like heights. Not like this when it means either a narrow ledge or dangling in a rope. Especially not after what happened with the Stone Giants. And if he didn’t get up here while it was still light, I don’t think he’d be wanting to make the trip now.”  
  
They’d rigged ropes for climbing up to the not-cave, so they wouldn’t have to keep tip-toeing along the narrow ledge that they’d first discovered, and Fíli had at first supposed that it was _Bombur_ who was the cause for the two cousins staying down below.  
  
Though he should probably have known better, because the trellis-incident while they’d been staying with Beorn certainly proved that Bombur had no fear when it came to climbing  things which might not be able to bear his weight.  
  
“He’s always taken care of us,” Bofur had continued when Fíli hadn’t replied. “It’s not often we get the chance to do the same.”  
  
“If you want to, I would come with you,” Fíli had offered.  
  
“No,” Bofur had smiled with a shake of his head, brushing his thumb along Fíli’s moustache. “Stay with Kíli and Thorin and make sure Bilbo doesn’t strangle your brother if he keeps talking about the damned birds. We’ll be fine, and I’ll see you in the morning.”  
  
“I’ll miss you,” Fíli had murmured, and now he did...  
  
Fíli got to his feet and caught Kíli's eye, signing that he’d be right back.  
  
The others barely noticed that he’d gotten up because a discussion had begun around the subject of exactly which birds counted as thrushes anyway. (A hypothetical discussion of course, and not meant as research before smacking any birds into any stone walls, or so Bilbo had been told.)  
  
Óin was claiming that a bluebird wasn’t a thrush, because it wasn’t called a thrush, was it now?  Balin protested this most vehemently and reminded them that Óin couldn’t even tell a thrush from a raven, so obviously he wouldn't know that a bluebird was a kind of thrush.  
  
Leaving the increasingly agitated arguing behind Fíli walked to the end of the not-cave and peered out into the dark landscape. Which wasn’t entirely dark, because the blond Dwarf’s eyes immediately found a little campfire burning below.  
  
Three little figures were seated around it, one of them distinctly wider than the three others, but from where he was standing Fíli couldn’t really tell Bofur and Bifur apart. At least not until Bofur moved his head and the flaps of his hat became obvious.  
  
Not for the first time since realising that he was in love with Bofur Fíli wanted to split himself into two so that one part of him could stay with Kíli and Thorin and one part could be with Bofur, and he wouldn’t ever have to choose between those two parts.  
  
On second thought, perhaps there should be three of him. One Dwarf who was nephew and brother; and son. One Dwarf who was Bofur’s lover, and one Dwarf who was the heir to the kingdom that was literally now at their feet. Only, that wouldn’t really solve anything anyway.  
  
If there were three of him, all those Fílis would still love their family, still love Bofur, and still love this mountain that they’d only seen before in dreams and in the pictures painted by stories. All these three loves was in Fíli’s blood, and he could lose them about as well as he could lose said blood.

“I can feel you brooding all the way from here,” someone said and Fíli’s hand instinctively went to his blades strapped on his back before he recognized his brother’s voice.  
  
“Do not sneak up on someone standing by the edge of a cliff,” Fíli reproached. “I don’t fancy ending the night in the shape of a pancake.”  
  
“Don’t talk about pancakes,” Kíli grumbled as he stopped next to the blond. “I’m already missing the food in Lake-town.”  
  
“Pancakes have eggs in them,” Fíli said casually.  
  
There was a brief silence.  
  
“I hate you,” Kíli moaned. “Don’t ruin _pancakes_. That’s just cruel.”  
  
“So are you really still picturing eggs with curly hair and blue eyes?” Fíli teased.  
  
“Not as such,” Kíli mumbled. “Wait a moment,” he added. “How did you know that’s what I was doing?”  
  
“I didn’t,” Fíli smirked. “But now I do. Did they have dark or blonde hair?”  
  
“You’ve clearly been spending too much time with Nori…” Kíli peered down at Bofur and the others. “And Thorin, if you’re moping about Bofur even though it was just an hour or so since you saw each other. Thorin will be so much fun when Bilbo decides that he needs to go back to the Shire.”  
  
Fíli gave his brother a horrified look. “You don’t think Bilbo will want to stay?”  
  
“No, I mean, yes, I mean-” Kíli frowned. “Don’t you think he’ll want to go and say good-bye to his friends? We didn’t exactly leave him with a lot of time to do that. It’s his home, or at least it was. Just like Erebor’s ours.”  
  
“Oh,” Fíli nodded slowly. “Yeah, even if he’s staying he might need to make arrangements.”  
  
“Maybe Thorin can go with him,” Kíli suggested. “Get a break from all the kinging he’s bound to be doing.”  
  
“’Kinging’?”  
  
“Ruling, governing, whatever,” Kíli clarified with a shrug. “And you can stay here and be king instead and and Dwalin and I can go with them because I want to know if all Hobbits have as well-filled pantries as Bilbo had.” He sighed dreamily. “Sounds like a perfect place for a vacation.”  
  
“Do you really want to be on the road with uncle and Bilbo?” Fíli raised an eyebrow. “Just them and you and Dwalin. Think about it.”  
  
Kíli did and shuddered. “On second thought, good point. I’ll settle for going to Lake-town then.” He frowned again. “Or maybe to Beorn. I don’t really liked the people of Lake-town very much, and I missed the dogs and ponies, and even the rabbits and the sheep.”  
  
“I had almost forgotten the sheep,” Fíli said with a wry smile. “Feels like it was an Age ago we stayed with Beorn.”  
  
“Do you think Balin is still pining after the rabbits?” Kíli asked jokingly.  
  
“Of course he is, he’s a Durin,” Fíli replied with a wink. Kíli snickered but became serious again when he looked back towards the camp and the missing door.  
  
“For a time I wondered if Thorin was really Durin reborn,” Kíli said softly. “If Grandfather and Grandmother had made a mistake and not realised it when they gave him the name Thorin.”  
  
“Me too,” Fíli confessed. Their uncle had always seemed a little larger than life, even during such times when he mooned after a certain burglar.  
  
“He’s always been so lonely,” Kíli said sadly. “And it’s been so long since the last Durin.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I think I’m glad I’m not having children.”  
  
“I’m not following,” Fíli said.  
  
“All Durins, I mean, all those of our line who have been called Durin have become kings,” Kíli explained. “It seems that it’s inevitable. And I wouldn’t want to have a son whose name would mean that Thorin and you, and myself for that matter, would have to die.”  
  
Fíli blinked. “Thanks? But we will all die one day anyway. Only now I guess Dáin’s son or Glóin’s son will be king someday. Unless Bofur’s and my children show that they-“  
  
“Wait a second,” Kíli held up a hand. “Your _children_? You figured out a way to have kids and you didn’t tell me?”  
  
“Well, adoption,” Fíli explained and Kíli deflated a little.  
  
“Oh.” Then he perked back up. “ _Oh_. That’s a good idea. Do you think I could find one looking like Dwalin?”  
  
“Babes _are_ usually bald,” Fíli teased. “But I don’t think we get to decide things like this. If it is meant to be, it’ll happen.”  
  
“They had lots of children in the Shire,” Kíli mused. “If Bilbo goes back, do you think he could bring some? Just the ones no one else wants!” he added when Fíli looked sceptical. “I wasn’t suggesting that he’d steal a bunch. But baby Hobbits are sure to be adorable. Do you think they’ve got hairy feet or does that come later like beards do?”

“I think I’m going to go back to the others now,” Fíli said. “Before you end up talking me into something that Bilbo is going to yell at me for later.”  
  
He took another look at the three Dwarfs below, and then Fíli strolled back to the others, followed by Kíli who was listing all the reasons more Hobbits were a good things.  
  
“Have I mentioned the pantries yet?”


	79. Open Sesame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys, guys, things happen!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're following one of my other stories, I'm alive!  
> Work's just been a bit shit and my weekends have been busy, but I hope to get back to updating soon.

It was sunset. It was sunset on Durin's day.   
  
The sun was a reddish golden orb low in the sky and the new moon’s slim crescent hovered uncertainly close to the horizon.   
  
And they _still_ hadn't found that damned door. 

The Company were all gathered before the blank rock wall, even Bifur and Bombur had made the trip up the cliff side when the sun began to sink on the sky. The ponies would just have to fend for themselves for a few hours, or just… eat grass. Because so far they’d not seen any other living creatures on the mountain except for birds.

"It was Grandfather’s map," Fíli murmured to Bofur. "I can understand that he didn’t want just _anyone_ to know the secret path into the mountain. But when not even his own kin can find it I'm wondering if he shouldn't have been a little clearer. For example, there’s quite a lot of middle ground between what we have and a thirty feet high explanation on how to open it, edged into the side of the mountain."

"Did you ever learn any magic?" Bofur asked. "This door is clearly shielded by it, but I never actually met any Dwarf who can cast any spells. Then again the company I've kept tends more towards miners and tinkerers. “ He chuckled slightly. “At least before I got myself engaged to a prince." The following smile Fíli received was sweet and - despite all reassurance, still a little shy; bordering on self-deprecating,. It had become Bofur’s unfortunate default when the subject of their respective social (bah) standing came up, and Fíli wondered if asking Thorin to make Bofur the lord of something or another would help or just make things worse.

"I'm afraid I could cast a spell to save my life," Fíli explained. "If I could, you would already know. But there has been tutors trying to teach both Kíli and me, and uncle too. But we do not have any disposition towards it, or so they said."

Bofur laughed. "You sound like you think they were wrong?"

"Well Kíli showed a remarkable talent for disappearing whenever the tutors showed up. I suspect magic was indeed involved. It was very tedious and boring,” Fíli added when Bofur raised an eyebrow in question. “A lot of runes and mumbling and hand waving. We both rather wanted to be outside, practicing swordplay or on Kíli’s part; archery.” They had also both been rather more interested in running off to chat up the nearest pretty Dwarf they could find, but that wasn't something he felt like he needed to share with Bofur... It would just bore him. Yeah.

"Look a thrush!" Dori called, and Fíli and Bofur turned to look as a bird landed on the ground before the wall where they supposed that the door should be found.

Dwalin cracked his knuckles and avoided looking in Bilbo's direction. "We could always eat it afterwards,” he suggested to no one in particular. “Then it wouldn't be a waste even if I-"

"Oh, just do what you will," Bilbo sighed. “But don’t think I didn’t see that crow you and Nori caught earlier. I saw it wobbling down the side of the mountain. Poor thing.”

"No wait," Bilbo said as Dwalin took his first step towards the bird.   
  
“Didn’t you just say-“  
  
“Yes, but look!"

The bird, which was fairly large for a thrush, had hopped closer to the flat stone wall. In its beak it held a rock, no a snail, Fíli realised. It then proceeded to hit the rock with it, once, twice-

"It's _knocking_ ," Bilbo breathed. "’ _When the thrush knocks_ ’, Thorin, where's Thorin? _Thorin_?!"

Thorin, who had been exploring just a little further up on the mountain side half ran, half fell down to answer Bilbo's call. 

"What is happening?"

"Thorin your key, take it out."

So tense was the atmosphere that not even Bombur made a joke about something else Bilbo could have asked Thorin to take out and show them. 

The thrush knocked a third and fourth time as Thorin fumbled to get the key out from beneath his armour and clothes. Finally he pulled the chain out and held it between fingers which admirably did not tremble.   
  
Fíli realised that he’d stopped breathing and had to hurriedly suck in a huge lungful of air before he did something embarrassing like pass out.

The bird knocked a fifth time and, seemingly exasperated, it shook its head and flew up to perch a little higher up, just to the side of the smooth wall. 

Absolutely nothing happened. 

"Well," Dwalin said, looking up at the bird. "Maybe it needs some help to knock hard enough."

"I think-" Bilbo began, but he was interrupted before he could actually finish speaking. 

A ray from the disappearing sun found its way through the opening in the not-cave's roof and fell on the smooth rock wall. The thrush tilted its head and peered down at the bright spot with beady eyes before giving a sharp thrill.   
  
For a moment there was complete silence. For a moment absolutely nothing continued to happen.

Then a flake of rock split from the wall and fell down with a faint plicking sound. A small hole appeared right where the thrush had been banging the shell against the rock. A _key_ hole.  
  
“Thorin, the key,” Bilbo whispered urgently. And Fíli didn't _know_ why the Hobbit was whispering but he understood it. To speak loudly would just have seemed wrong.   
  
Thorin stepped up and removed the key from the chain around his neck. He knelt down and fitted it into the hole. Bombur did not make a single joke.

With a sharp _snap!_  the key turned, and the sound of gears and cogs slowly grinding against each other could be heard. More remarkably was the brief but bright burst of light that for a moment illuminated everyone who stood before the no longer quite as smooth wall.   
  
In that same moment the last of the sun sank beneath the horizon and the night begun. But even in the dimmer light they could all make out the outlines of a door that had appeared on the rock. _In_ the rock even. Where moments ago there had been only smooth stone, there was now what Fíli estimated to be a five feet high and three feet broad doorway.   
  
Blindly Fíli fumbled for Bofur’s hand, squeezing hard when he found it and Bofur returned it. Finally. Finally they had found it.  
  
When Thorin, aided by Bifur and Dwalin, pushed on the door it soundlessly swung inwards on hinges not visible to the naked eye.  From the now open doorway darkness spilled out, darkness… and a distinctively unpleasant smell.   
  
“Oh, Mahal,” Dori murmured absently. “There's probably piles and piles of dragon dung inside.”

As one the rest of the company turned to look at him and the silver haired Dwarf flushed slightly. “I expect that you can smell that as well as I can,” he added and pursed his lips. "I was simply saying what everyone was thinking."  
  
“It can be aired out,” Bilbo said, placing his hand on Thorin’s arm and giving it a comforting pat.  
  
Thorin shook his head, muttering something beneath his breath.  
  
Holding his own breath, deliberately this time, Fíli peered into the total darkness inside the mountain. “I think any exploration should wait until the morning,” he said quietly when he turned around. “We’ve waited this long. The door is hardly about to shut itself again just because we get some sleep, and even if it does, we now know where the keyhole is.”  
  
“Yes, good idea,” Bilbo said, nodding. “We should all rest, and you can again go over what I should expect, and then in the morning I’ll-“ Bilbo frowned. “By the way, not that I am one, but why did you think you needed a burglar anyway? You can hardly expect me to burglar a _mountain_ from beneath the snout of a Dragon.”  
  
Everyone looked towards Thorin who wrapped his arms around Bilbo and possessively pulled him against his chest.  
  
“It was the Wizard’s idea,” he said gruffly . “Take it up with him.”  
  
"Well," Bofur said loyally. "If anyone _could_ steal a mountain, Bilbo, it'd be you."  
  
Nori huffed and turned his nose up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading, I love you and I love comments ;)  
> What do you like, what don't you like, what would you like to see more of?


	80. Nightly Conversations Abounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking happens. And bad summaries. It's been a long weekend.

Fíli couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t sure if it was due to anticipation: they now were so close to their goal! or because _since_ they now were so close, it meant that in the morning they’d send Bilbo inside the mountain to spy on a Dragon.  
  
One Hobbit. One Dragon. One deeply troubled Fíli. Yes, that seemed reasonable.  
  
The blond carefully unwound himself from a sleeping Bofur, gently stroking his hand along the other Dwarf’s side when Bofur grumbled and curled up in the warm spot that Fíli had left. The hat was slightly lopsided, so Fíli careful righted it, bending to press a kiss to the corner of Bofur's mouth. Just because he could.  
  
Looking around Fíli saw that Thorin was still on watch; sitting ramrod straight on a large rock that allowed him to have a good view of the Company and the doorway at the same time. Perhaps also of the landscape below. It was a pretty big rock.  
  
At the moment Thorin was slightly turned away from Fíli and the others, staring into the darkness that lay beyond the so recently revealed doorway. Even though Fíli could only see half of his uncle’s face, there was no mistaking the frown on it.  
  
Strictly speaking, Thorin should have woken someone else up and let them have a turn by now. The sky was still dark, but there was a hint of a colour shift along the horizon, hinting that dawn was at least approaching and that meant that Thorin had _clearly_ been on watch much too long as he’d offered (erm, commanded) that he'd take first watch.  
  
However… since Fíli couldn’t sleep he wasn’t that surprised that Thorin couldn’t either.  
  
But regardless of his uncle’s wakeful state, Fíli would still offer to watch over the Company for the rest of the night, because even if Thorin wasn’t going to sleep, he could still hold Bilbo and – oh.  
  
Fíli had just glanced over where Bilbo should be sleeping but where he wasn’t. Sleeping or otherwise.  
  
The bedroll that the Hobbit had placed as far away from the doorway leading into Erebor as possible and still stay within the circle of warmth from their campfire was decidedly empty. This was not good, not at all-  
  
Then Fíli caught a glimpse of blond curls out of the corner of one eye. More precise, blond curls belonging to a particular Hobbit who was almost entirely hidden away inside Thorin’s cloak. A cloak that Thorin was also wearing, meaning that Bilbo was sitting curled up in Thorin’s lap.  
  
At least they both seemed to be wearing clothes. Clothes were good. Clothes were _excellent_. Otherwise it would have been straight back to 'not good at all'.  
  
A little cautiously Fíli approached his uncle and Bilbo, and as he got closer he realised (to his relief) that they were _indeed_ fully clothed still, and Bilbo was even asleep, curled up against Thorin’s chest.  
  
Fíli frowned. That couldn’t have been comfortable, for either of them. Thorin was still in his armour; so he hardly made a decent pillow, and while Bilbo was small he was big enough that Thorin’s legs would be asleep if they’d been like that for a while.

 “Uncle,” Fíli said softly. “I can keep watch for the rest of the night. Take Bilbo and get some rest.”  
  
“Thank you, Fíli,” Thorin answered without looking away from the doorway. “But I won’t sleep anyway.”  
  
“I didn’t say sleep, I said rest.” Fíli smiled up at Thorin. “And think of the crick Bilbo will get in his neck if he sleeps like that for much longer. Or perhaps it is already too late.”  
  
He’d aimed to get at least the hint of a smile to touch Thorin’s mouth, but instead a heavy frown settled across his face.  
  
“It is late,” Thorin said darkly, looking away from the inside of the mountain to meet Fíli’s eyes. “Much too late for much too many things. If something happens tomorrow…” he trailed off, gathering Bilbo a little closer to his chest.  
  
Fíli very much wanted to promise that nothing would happen, but he couldn’t, because they’d all joined this quest knowing that anything could happen. Even Bilbo.  
  
“Bilbo will go inside wearing his ring, he will confirm if the Dragon is there or not, and he will come back out again,” Fíli said, trying to inject as much ‘this will not end badly’ as possible into his voice.  
  
“And then?”  
  
“And then…” Fíli sighed, because what could he say to that. “We’ll think of something.” They always did.  
  
Thorin’s frown softened. “I did not mean to take my worries out on you. This does not lie on your shoulders.”  
  
“It doesn’t have to be solely on yours either,” Fíli said, wishing that he could put a hand on Thorin’s shoulder, but his uncle was sitting too far up. It would have required jumping and climbing and that would just be silly.  
  
Thorin did not look convinced, so before he could deny what Fíli had just said, the blond shouldered on.  
  
“You are our king, our leader and while that means that we will look to you in many situations, you are also more than that.” Fíli nodded up towards Bilbo. “ _He_ doesn’t think of you as just a King. And neither do I, _uncle_. You are a friend to all of us, or we would not have joined you. We would not have you suffer alone if there is something we can do to help.”  
  
For a few moments Thorin was silent, then he sighed, and Fíli had a few more moments of worrying that he’d disappointed his uncle, but then a small smile slowly spread over Thorin’s face.  
  
“You really have grown up, Fíli. And without me noticing.”  
  
Fíli was now _extremely_ glad that he’d not tried the jumping and shoulder patting thing. He grinned up at Thorin, trying to still look very grown-up and dignified, but he had a feeling that it was not going all that well.  
  
“I’m glad you think so, because the next time you find a horse in your quarters, Kíli will get all the blame.”  
  
Thorin snorted, and sound made Bilbo stir slightly in his arms, but the Hobbit settled once more. “So if I accused your brother of something you had done, you would be able to sit quiet and let him be blamed for it? Strange how I have formed this opinion that it is more common for you to shoulder the responsibility for his deeds, regardless of your part in them.”  
  
“No,” Fíli protested. Because it wasn’t true. Not most of the time.  
  
“That you immediately deny this is not helping your case,” Thorin teased. “But don’t worry, I know you are not innocent either when it comes to such incidents as the horse in my quarters.”  
  
“I’m glad?” Fíli tried, because it rather felt like there was a compliment for him at the bottom of this.  
  
“I really am proud of you,” Thorin said quietly, almost quietly enough that Fíli for a moment thought he’d misheard. “Of you both.”  
  
“I- thank you, Uncle,” was all Fíli could think of to say. He didn’t understand why his chest felt so crowded all of a sudden. Thorin had said much the same thing while they had travelled from Lake-town to Erebor, but suddenly it seemed to hold that much more weight.  
  
“I’ve never regretted making you my heir. Not even after the horse ate my bedclothes,” Thorin added drily. “It is easy to think of you and Kíli as the same little boys as always. But I wouldn’t have agreed to let you join me if that was how I really saw you. And you have not proven me wrong.”  
  
“I-“ Fíli’s mind was still stuck on something that wasn’t very productive for speaking. “Will you tell Kíli as well? He would enjoy hearing it.”  
  
Thorin’s lips quirked in another small smile. “I will. And when you are king, if you look out for our people even half as well as you look out for your brother, you will be a greater king than I’ve ever been.”  
  
“I am _so_ sorry to interrupt,” Bilbo said, surprising Fíli and Thorin both. “But I really need to go.”  
  
“Go?” Fíli asked, staring up at Bilbo who was squirming around in Thorin’s lap in a way that seemed to suggest that Fíli would need to look away very soon (or suffer the consequences).  
  
“ _Go_. As in your uncle and I will both be getting wet trousers if I don’t leave.”  
  
For a second, Fíli interpreted wet trousers as something else entirely, then he realised that Bilbo needed to go pass water. Relief flooded his mind.  
  
“Ah.” Thorin loosened his arms around Bilbo and the Hobbit gingerly got to his feet. He peered out over the edge of the boulder.  
  
“This didn’t seem to be quite as high when I climbed up here.”  
  
“If you jump I’ll catch you,” Fíli offered.  
  
“If you catch me and squeeze the wrong part of me, we’re not going to like the results,” Bilbo said tightly.  
  
“You can just urinate from up here,” Thorin suggested, and this merited a look from the Hobbit as if the suggestion had been to urinate on the Dragon. Part horrified, part ‘are you even serious?’ and part ‘NO.’.  
  
“Thank you, but I prefer privacy,” Bilbo said as he started climbing down.  
  
“It’s not like we would look,” Fíli protested. Then he paused. “Well, it’s not like _I_ would look.”  
  
“My thanks,” Thorin said wryly.  
  
“All I’m suggesting is that _I_ have no desire to see any more bits of Bilbo than are currently on display,” Fíli said. “And that you have likely have seen a lot more.” He grimaced. “Even though I prefer not to think of that either.”  
  
“Is this a Dwarven thing?” Bilbo asked as he continued to climb down. “Wanting to be nearby when other people make water? Because this conversation feels awfully familiar.”  
  
“I don’t want to know,” Fíli said quickly, resisting the urge to cover his ears. “Really, I’ll be going now.”  
  
“It wasn’t _that_ kind of conversation! Thorin just wanted- oh sweet Valar, I’m just going to make it sound worse.” Bilbo jumped the last distance down to the ground and they both looked up at Thorin who had covered his face with one hand.  
  
Fíli nodded. “So, I’m going to go stay here, and take over the last watch, and I think that once you are ready to rest some more, you might try out your bedroll, because Thorin will be waiting there, not watching anyone urinate whatsoever. Right, Uncle?”  
  
He chose to take the muffled groan he got in reply as a yes. For the sake of his sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, next up Bilbo will be heading inside Erebor.
> 
> Would you prefer Bilbo POV, or would you prefer Fíli POV (Or someone else's POV?)  
> If no preferences are communicated, I'm just going to do what I've planned, but I won't tell you here what that is ;)  
> So I would love it if you dropped me a comment with your opinion, if you have one.
> 
> Something else I'm really curious about, how many of you have been reading basically since the start? How many have just gotten here?


	81. Fretting Dwarfs, Sleeping Dragon?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you don't already know what this bit is about Bombur will mock you for the coming year for not paying attention.

It was a perfectly lovely day, at least if you kept your gaze high and focused on the blue cloudless sky and not on the desolate landscape below which looked only slightly more cheerful than a pile of ash.  
  
Still, no matter the quality of the day, none of the Dwarfs paid much attention to it because shortly after sunrise their Hobbit had gone into the mountain to spy on a Dragon.  
  
Everyone dealt with it in their own way, from the return of Thorin’s boulder impression (Fíli had not missed it) to Kíli’s _inability_ to sit still for more than a moment at the time (at least before Dwalin snagged him by the collar and said that he needed help to braid his beard (blatant lie as Dwalin never bothered to braid it in the first place, but all involved parties ignored this and the non-involved parties ignored the entire thing).  
  
Bofur had found a piece of wood somewhere and was whittling away on– Fíli wasn’t entirely sure what it would be, but considering the amount of wood chips on the ground, it would be something small, perhaps not even visible to the eye. (Fíli just hoped Bofur would stop before any fingers started disappearing.)  
  
Fíli looked towards where his uncle was sitting, unmoving and perhaps even unblinking, staring at the dark rectangular entrance to the tunnel that Bilbo had entered. The only time Fíli had seen him move was when a thrush had landed on the cliffs above them. The glare Thorin had sent it seemed to indicate that he was not exactly holding the birds blameless for their part in having his Hobbit wander into a Dragon’s lair, even if they were just following a prophecy.  
  
Fíli was surprised the bird hadn’t melted right on the spot, instead only making an affronted squawk and flying off.  
  
Days passed. Okay, fine, an _hour_ passed. But it certainly felt like days. Then Thorin abruptly got to his feet and began walking towards the tunnel enterance.  
  
“Thorin?” Balin asked before anyone else had gotten over the shock of their king being able to move again.  
  
“What if he is injured?” Thorin asked tightly. “I need to go and-“  
  
“If you go in there, the Dragon will smell you, maybe hear you, and then-“  
  
“I won’t walk all the way down,” Thorin said, with what Fíli thought was a very shifty look. “I just, Balin, I can’t just _sit_ here.”  
  
Balin’s face softened and he clasped Thorin on the shoulder. “I know, my friend, I know. But do not go too far. Perhaps only so far that you can still make out the doorway. That should be safe.”  
  
“What if the path bends?” Thorin asked, still looking much too shifty, but he deflated when Balin gave him a narrow-eyed look. “I said I would not go all the way down,” Thorin said quietly. “And I won’t. But I cannot continue to do nothing.”

 “Do you want me to-“ Fíli began.  
  
“I can come with you,” his brother said in the very same moment and the two of them exchanged a quick look of understanding.  
  
“Best not,” Balin warned. “Or the Dragon runs a higher chance of sensing you.”  
  
Dwalin cursed when Kíli accidentally pulled on his beard as he slumped in disappointment.  
  
“I’ll be back soon,” Thorin promised. Then, before anyone had the chance to say anything else, he went into the darkness and was quickly gone from their sight.  
  
“I don’t like this,” Kíli stated, and there were shrugs and sighs all around because no one did, but what could be done about it.  
  
After Thorin and his glare had left, more birds dared to join them and their vigil. Not all of them were thrushes, some were bigger and completely black, and Fíli knew them to be ravens. That did not in any way make his surprise less when one of them suddenly spoke.  
  
“Greetings, Dwarfs of the Lonely Mountain,” it said.  
  
“Um,” Fíli said.  
  
He knew of course that some ravens learnt the common tongue, but they were usually not found out in the wild. They were messengers, and greatly valued as such. But it was unlikely that it was in that capacity they were here now. There was usually no one who bothered to send messages so someone they would not know the location of. Not to mention this many, because there were at least two dozen ravens sitting around them now.  
  
“Ah,” Balin said, he seemed to be less surprised at this recent feathery development. “Would you be of the line of Carc?”  
  
“I am one of his descendants,” the raven nodded. “My name is Roäc.”  
  
“My name is Fíli, son of Dís, daughter to Thrain, son of Thror," Fíli said and tried his best to look regal. "Would you- _do_ you have a message for us?” Fíli asked, because you never knew. Maybe his mother had sent all of them and they’d just now caught up.  
  
“For now our message is only that we would welcome you back to the mountain. We are few, but we remember still the king that was of old. And the days when he ruled here.” The raven tilted his head to look at Fíli. “The new king seems… less cheerful.”  
  
Considering that Fíli had never really gotten the impression that Thror had been a particularly cheerful sort, this spoke volumes. Then again, to Fíli’s knowledge, his great grandmother had never been about to sneak inside a mountain to spy on a Dragon either.  
  
“Uncle Thorin is a great king,” Kíli protested, accidentally pulling on Dwalin’s beard again.  
  
“I never said he wasn’t,” the Raven said. “But if you defeat the Dragon, I hope that will lighten his disposition somewhat. Now we will be off. But I’m sure we will meet again.”  
  
“Thank you, Roäc.” Fíli inclined his head. These must be the sons and daughters of the ravens that had once lived here at Erebor with his people. Why else would Balin know of them. “We would be glad to have you as our allies once more.”  
  
“We are glad to hear it, prince.” With that all the ravens flew off, leaving only the thrushes.  
  
The Dwarves looked at the thrushes, half expecting them to speak or do something interesting as well, but the birds just squirmed and looked a little shy, except one who waved one wing at Ori who awkwardly returned the gesture with a waggle of his fingers.  
  
“Be careful around him,” Nori said to the thrush. “He might end up making a pen out of you.”  
  
The bird tittered something vaguely rude sounding at the thief, fluffing himself up.  
  
“Several pens, then,” Nori amended. The bird turned his beak up and flew to perch at a startled Ori’s shoulder.  
  
“Erm, nice bird?” the scribe offered, and the bird cooed.  
  
“Brother, you’ve gone and found someone smaller than you to court you!” Nori said with a small grin. “I didn’t think it to be possible. I-” Then as one, all the birds took flight and were gone.  
  
“Was it something I said?” Nori asked, scratching at his head.  
  
“Look,” Bofur said, pointing to the doorway. “They're back!"  
  
Fíli’s breath caught when he saw that Thorin was carrying Bilbo, but he could relax once more when he heard Bilbo pointing out that he was still capable of walking, thank you very much.  
  
“Really, Thorin, put me down.” Bilbo looked embarrassed when he saw that everyone was watching. “I just stumbled, I’m perfectly able to use both my feet.”  
  
Jaw clenched, Thorin did put Bilbo back down, and the Hobbit wobbled a little, as you're wont to do when you're suddenly back on the ground after spending some time off it. But before anyone could blink, Thorin had plucked him back up again.  
  
“See,” he grunted. “You were about to fall.”  
  
“Are you all right?” Fíli asked, getting up and approaching Bilbo and Thorin worriedly.  
  
“I’ve been _better_ ,” Bilbo admitted. “But I have no problem with _walking_.”  
  
Muttering beneath his breath, Thorin carefully set Bilbo down again, still looking like he expected Bilbo to tip over at any given moment.  
  
“Thank you,” Bilbo said, smiling a little shakily up at Thorin. “Now just give me a moment to breathe, and I’ll tell you all about it. Oh, but first-“ Bilbo reach inside his shirt and coat, that Fíli just noticed was bulging oddly.  
  
What their Hobbit pulled out was an exquisitely made golden goblet, interlaid with precious stones and silver strands.  
  
“Someone take this, because it’s really uncomfortable to try and wear it.”  
  
“I’m going to go and get Bombur and Bifur,” Bofur said quietly. “The ponies can manage on their own for a bit, and they’ll want to hear this.”  
  
Fíli tore his eyes away from the cup to smile at Bofur. “Hurry back, I’m guessing that this is something we all want to hear.” Fíli paused. “Except maybe Thorin…” Because Thorin was still doing a fairly decent boulder impression, giving every indication that what _he_ wanted was to find a big enough cotton ball to fit the whole of Bilbo in, and then find an even bigger and softer thing to place around that and then-  
  
The ground shook.  
  
Bofur’s eyes widened and he dashed away towards Bombur and Bofur. Someone asked if that had been an earth quake, but Fíli wasn’t entirely sure who it had been.  
  
“No, not an earth quake,” Balin said. “Quick, everyone get into the tunnel. Before the Dragon sees us.”  
  
Bilbo was looking at the cup that Nori now held with horror. “Did I do this? Did I wake him?”  
  
“No,” Thorin protested, but Bilbo looked up at him with wide scared eyes.  
  
“I’m so sorry.”  
  
“Can we save the discussion for later?” Dwalin asked, pushing Kíli along and snagging Ori by the collar to drag him towards the gate. “Everyone, get over here.”  
  
“Fíli?” Kíli called, reaching out. “Come.”  
  
“Bofur isn’t- Bombur and Bifur- I need to.” Fíli began to back away. “I’ll be right with you.” Then he turned and raced towards the cliff that was just above the camp where Bombur and Bifur were waiting with the ponies.  
  
“Fíli!”  
  
-  
  
Bofur was pulling Bifur up when Fíli skidded to a stop beside him and together they quickly got him the rest of the way up the mountainside. As soon as Bifur’s feet touched the stone again they unbound the ropes around him and threw them down to Bombur.  
  
“I really don’t want to be eaten!” Bombur called up. “I’ve never liked irony!”  
  
“No one is getting eaten,” Fíli said with clenched teeth. Then he realised that the ponies would be impossible to get up the mountain and suddenly he was so very grateful that Beorn’s ponies had not been able to come with them after all. It was terribly unfair to these animals who had been nothing but loyal and patient, but horrible as it was, Fíli still felt relieved that it was not their friends which stood bound below (not that they would have bound them, but-)  
  
Suddenly another pair of  arms and hands came to help them haul Bombur up into the air. _Thorin_.

It didn’t take long then, to get Bombur back up with them, but that time still managed to last an eternity, because by then they’d all heard the horrible sounds echoing down from even higher up in the mountain. It felt like the Dragon could come swooping down at them at any given moment.  
  
Then just as Bombur crawled over the edge of the cliff Fíli heard it, and from the further stiffening of Thorin’s spine indicated that he heard it as well.  
  
The sound like that of a great hurricane, coming from the north.  
  
There were no more pines left on the mountainside to creak and crack, but that made little difference. They all knew what it meant.  
  
Fíli flinched when Thorin placed his hand on his back and gave a gentle, but demanding prod. “Run,” Thorin said. “We need to get back to the tunnel.”  
  
Fíli scrambled blindly for Bofur’s hand, found it, saw that Bombur had gotten to his feet aided by Bifur, and then all five of them were running.

Fíli could hear the ponies crying out in terror and the sound tore at his heart, but there was not anything to be done about it. The neighing soon grew more distant than just their own running away from it could account for, and he hoped against hope that the ponies had indeed burst their ropes and would manage to run away and escape.  
  
Then the darkness of the tunnel greeted them and Fíli’s heart beat madly out of both fear and from running so fast. As soon as they’d reached the others, some distance into the tunnel, all five of them collapsed down on the ground to catch their breaths.  
  
“Fine,” he heard Bilbo murmur to Thorin. “If you felt like I just felt the entire time I was gone, you earned the right to carry me around a bit. Only a bit mind you. I thought my heart would beat right out of my chest when I heard the ponies but still couldn’t see any of you.”  
  
Bofur had slumped against Bombur’s side and Fíli dragged himself over to rest on top of them both. He'd aimed mostly for Bofur, but there was simply more of Bombur to land on.  
  
“I told you, I prefer bigger breasts than you have,” Bombur said between huge heaves of breath, and Bofur smacked his palm weakly against his brother's side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in response to my question last time, I wanted to do Fíli’s POV, since this is basically his story. And since no one screamed that that was a bad idea, tada! lol
> 
> Though we’ll have Bilbo telling us about what happened later. The Dragon kinda got in the way of the telling about the Dragon. But it’ll come. 
> 
> This is one of very few chapters that almost ended on a serious note. Then Bombur saved me. Bombur is awesome like that.


	82. Better Or Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo tells the Company of what he saw inside the mountain, and there are calm and sensible discussions as a result of that (no, not really)

Smaug didn’t find their hidey-hole. That was good. The bad part was the minor detail of them now being inside a mountain that was home to a Dragon who was well aware that he was not alone anymore.  
  
And the more Bilbo told them about his trip down into the treasure chambers, the more Thorin’s face lost all expression.  
  
“The treasure chambers were not nearly as dark as this-“ Bilbo waved his hand around. “-passage is. I guess there are skylights? Or ventilation shafts? Something to let the daylight in even so deep underground. Or-“  
  
“There are crystals that glow in the dark,” Balin explained. “Not much good for anything else, too brittle, but if you fix them into the walls, they make for decent enough lightening.”  
  
“Really?” Bilbo asked. “That’s interesting. And they just keep glowing?”  
  
“Can we talk about this later?” Nori asked. “I want to hear about the Dragon.”  
  
“I- oof!” Bilbo said as Thorin’s arm tightened around his middle. “I was just about to get to that part. It wasn’t just the crystals that were glowing. I think the Dragon was as well, like the embers on a hearth. He was asleep.”  
  
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Bombur said. “But he was asleep and then you _woke_ him?”  
  
Then he had to duck to avoid the smacking hands of both Bofur, Dwalin and Fíli.  
  
“I didn’t mean to,” Bilbo said defensively. “And he was asleep when I starting going back up again. You heard it, he didn’t stir until I was back outside the mountain again. Though I guess…” Bilbo sighed. “I shouldn’t have taken the cup. I just… I just wanted to bring something to prove that I’m not such a hopeless burglar.” The Hobbit shook his head. “I’m sorry, it- oof!”  
  
“Um, Uncle?” Kíli nudged Thorin’s arm. “You’re going to bruise him if you keep that up.”  
  
Thorin immediately changed his grip to instead clutch at Bilbo’s coat.

“I never thought he would notice that a single cup went missing,” Bilbo explained morosely. “The treasure’s even vaster than I could have imagined. It goes further than I could see, or count. It-“ he paused and shook his head. “You must understand that we Hobbits care very little, if at all, for gold and gems, but something about the treasure below us… It called to me.” Bilbo shivered. “I don’t particularly care for how it made me feel. Not now at least. But when I was down there, it was glorious.”  
  
“I was afraid of this,” Óin muttered and everyone turned to look at him. The faint light coming from the square gate some distance up the passage cast long shadows on all of their faces, but Óin seemed particularly gloomy.  
  
“Afraid of what?” Kíli asked.  
  
“Dragon-sickness,” Óin said shortly. “We will have to be careful. Who took the cup?”  
  
“Glóin?” Fíli asked, because he thought he remembered seeing him take it out of Bilbo’s hands before.  
  
“Aye, I have it,” Glóin confirmed. “But what is this nonsense you speak of, brother? Dragon-sickness?”  
  
“Are you aware that you are petting the cup?” Óin asked drily.  
  
“I’m not-“ Glóin looked down at the same time Fíli did and the redheaded Dwarf was indeed stroking his fingers along the cup’s handles. “Oh.”  
  
“Indeed,” Óin said. “Dragon-sickness is a tricky sort of thing. The Dragon’s fierce lust for gold and treasure is a two-edged sword. It can spread. Infect all who come too close.” Óin gazed seriously at all members of the Company. “It will make people reckless, and thus, make them an easier prey for the Dragon. Imagine if the Dragon had not been asleep when our burglar had taken the cup.”  
  
Bilbo shivered and pressed a little closer to Thorin. “But I feel fine now?”  
  
“Good,” Óin said shortly. “But we still best be on our guard.”  
  
Glóin very carefully deposited the cup on the ground and used his foot to nudge it away from himself. “So are you saying that the entire treasure is cursed?” he asked his brother.  
  
“What I’m saying is that we best be on our guard,” Óin repeated surly. “It’s not a curse as much as it is a sickness. Just because it won’t give you the sniffles does that mean there’s magic to it.”  
  
“If it’s a sickness, then there is a cure?” Kíli asked.  
  
Óin hemmed and hawed for a few moments. “Lad, it’s not that simple either.”  
  
“Some sicknesses are of the mind,” Thorin said darkly. “And on the mind tonics and medicine will do very little.”  
  
“Uncle?” Kíli asked, but Thorin would say no more on the subject, only wrapping his cloak firmer around himself and Bilbo even though the passage could not exactly be said to be cold.  
  
“Tell us more of the Dragon then,” Nori prompted. “And what you could see of our city.”  
  
“The first thing I noticed about the Dragon was that it was snoring,” Bilbo told them. “Yes, hardly very imposing,” he added when more than one of the Company smiled slightly. “But trust me, I did not find him the least bit funny when I finally saw him. He’s huge.”  
  
“Yes, but enough about Thorin,” Bombur said. “What about the Dragon.”  
  
“Brother, do shut up,” Bofur said in a pained voice.  
  
Bilbo paid no attention to either of them. “His tail was coiled, and his wings were folded, just like a great bat. He was resting partly on one side, so I could see some of his belly, and it was crusted with gold and gems as he’d made the treasure his bed.” Bilbo shook his head. “At first glance, he didn’t really seem that big. But then I realised that he was still a fair distance away, and that the round thing next to his head; about the size of one of his nostrils, that was  a golden shield.”

Everyone was quiet for a while after that.  
  
“And then I took the cup, and ran back out,” Bilbo said eventually.  
  
Suddenly there was a low rumble, coming as much from inside the depths of the mountain as from the outside, it went on for a minute or so, and then stopped.  
  
“The wyrm has returned,” Balin said quietly.  
  
“My father always said: ‘every worm has his weak spot’,” Bilbo muttered. “He didn’t mean this kind, but I guess we just need to find out what- Oof!”  
  
“There is no need for you to go back down there,” Thorin said firmly. “Now we know that the Dragon is indeed still alive, there is nothing else for you to investigate.”  
  
“Except that we still don’t know how to get rid of it,” Bilbo said gently. “Once it’s likely that he has fallen asleep again, I should return and-“  
  
“No,” Thorin interrupted. “You should not.”  
  
“Thorin, I have to.” Bilbo smiled slightly. “It’s why you brought me on this quest to begin with.”  
  
Thorin’s expression seemed to indicate that he’d bit into a lemon, a lemon which had also begun to rot.  
  
“Perhaps we can go back to Lake-town,” Fíli suggested. “And bring back something to poison the beast with.”  
  
“Do you really think they’ll have something that’ll work on a Dragon?” Nori said sceptically and Fíli shrugged.  
  
“It’s worth a try.”  
  
“So is me going down there again,” Bilbo pointed out. “I’ll wear my ring again of course. He won’t know I’m there. But there must be something we’re overlooking. Dragons are not immortal. They can be killed.”  
  
“I would ask for some privacy with our burglar,” Thorin said brusquely, without looking away from Bilbo. The rest of the Company looked at each other and shrugged. Almost as one they got to their feet and opted to walk towards the outside of the mountain instead of continuing further down.  
  
“What a day,” Bofur sighed and leaned into Fíli’s side as they continued to walk upwards towards the square of light.  
  
“-not have you get yourself killed!”

“Agreed,” Fíli said and tried not to pay any attention to the shouting coming from his uncle and Bilbo.  
  
“-listen to me!”  
  
“I raise you to how many days it’s been since we left Ered Luin,” Kíli sighed and pressed closer to Dwalin as the large Dwarf wrapped his arm around Kíli’s shoulder.  
  
“-ring to someone else!”  
  
“It’s _my_ ring!”  
  
“In the stories the heroes never stop to shout at each other just before killing their foes,” Ori muttered. “I didn’t think I would have to make this many revisions when I agreed to be Thorin’s scribe.”  
  
“You are going to leave out that bit with the barrels, right?” Fíli asked as he remembered that Ori hadn’t actually made any promises when they’d last spoken about it. “We can just sneak out instead.”  
  
“Also not very heroic,” Ori murmured.

“Am I going to get to be in this history at all?” Bombur asked. “Or will I be written out as to not offend your delicate sensibilities?”  
  
Dori glared at Bombur. “Let Ori do his job as he pleases.”  
  
“I’m just saying that the story would be awfully dry without me around.”  
  
“Bombur, you don’t even remember most of the story seeing as you fell into the river,” Nori pointed out.  
  
“Which makes it even more important that my greatness will live on in writing!” Bombur replied with a grin.

“So Uncle and Bilbo are the heroes?” Fíli asked Ori who shrugged a bit helplessly.  
  
“I don’t even know at this point.”  
  
Both of them snickered, a little hysterically, when Bifur muttered that if the _heroes_ didn’t stop shouting at each other soon, the Dragon would likely track them down based on that alone.  
  
When the noise from down the passage suddenly stopped Fíli frowned. “Whatever that’s a sign of, I’m not going to be the one to go and investigate.”  
  
“Me neither,” Kíli was quick to point out. He nudged Dwalin. “You’ve known Uncle for a long time, if they’re naked, you will survive the sight.”  
  
However, before anyone could go and inspect what their king and burglar was doing, the two of them could be seen walking up towards them.  
  
They didn’t look to be arguing still. Instead the two of them were curled as tightly together as possible and still be able to walk.  
  
“Um,” Bilbo fidgeted a bit when they halted. “So we have some news that we’d like to share.”  
  
Kíli perked up, but before he could open his mouth Dwalin had covered it with his hand.  
  
“- _not_ pregnant,” the warrior murmured, thankfully low enough that only Kíli and Fíli (who was standing right next to them) heard it. Kíli’s shoulders slumped.  
  
“I- we-“  
  
“Bilbo has agreed to wed me,” Thorin said proudly, even if there was still a hint of shadow left in his eyes.  
  
“Do you get the feeling that they just don’t know what they’re doing?” Fíli mumbled to Bofur amidst the loud congratulations that had just erupted.  
  
“Do any of us?”  
  
“Fair enough.”  
  
“Love you though.”  
  
“Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the conversation Thorin and Bilbo had was kinda like this:
> 
> Thorn: I don't want you to die.  
> Bilbo: I don't want to die either!  
> Thorin: Good, then you won't go down into the treasure chamber.  
> Bilbo: I promised that I'd help get you your home back.  
> Thorin: .....  
> Bilbo: Thorin, please. I just want to help you.
> 
> And then Thorin blurts out a repeat of his first blurted marriage proposal, and Bilbo is like:
> 
> "Is this a trick to get me to do as you want?"
> 
> Thorin looks offended, and Bilbo sighs. 
> 
> "Then yes, I will marry you."
> 
> "I just don't see-" Thorin blinks. "You will?" He looks suspicious. "Is this a trick to get _me_ to do as you want?"
> 
> "Do you want me to say no?"
> 
> And then there's cuddling.


	83. Who's Fooling Who?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves: THERE'S A PLAN BEING MADE
> 
> You'd think they would have come up with a plan before even leaving Ered Luin? But apparently plans are not the strong point of Dwarfs. I'm sure we're all incredibly shocked to learn this.

Fíli was composing a list of things he would prefer not to ever do again. It included such things as being stung by giant spiders, being captured by Elves, Goblins and Trolls, and waiting while Bilbo tried not to get incinerated by a Dragon.

The list wasn’t in any particular order, because it was fairly hard to rank things that he simply _never_ wanted to do again. You could only tried to avoid them.  
  
Which was why he was also trying to come up with a plan to get rid of the Dragon. He and everyone else (except Bilbo, because Bilbo was indeed back inside the mountain, and Thorin, because Thorin was waiting in the passage way and it hadn’t been possible to budge him) were gathered outside just beyond the gate.  
  
“Snakes don’t like clove oil and cinnamon,” Dori suggested. “I’m not saying that it’ll kill him, but maybe…”

 “Nah, but we could actually try and poison him?” Óin suggested. “Though there’s not an abundance of herbs around anymore. Might have to go back into the forest.”  
  
“And how are you going to actually poison him?” Kíli asked. “Ask him kindly to eat a barrel of the stuff?”  
  
“No need to get smart with me, lad,” Óin huffed. “And there are poisons that can be applied to the skin of-“  
  
“Scales,” Nori pointed out with a sigh. “The Dragon will have scales, and if our steel weren’t enough to cut through it when it came, I don’t think poison will get through it either. So we’re back with getting it through the beast’s mouth.”  
  
Kíli snapped his fingers. “Hang on, what if we put the poison on my arrows, and I fired them into the Dragon’s mouth?”  
  
A contemplative silence spread.

“It’s actually a rather good idea,” Balin said, sounding surprised and Kíli snorted.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“Balin didn’t mean it like that,” Dwalin said with a pointed glare at his brother. “Did he now?”  
  
“No, no,” the white-haired Dwarf said distractedly. “Nori, Óin, what would be the most fast working poison that we are likely to get our hands on?”  
  
Nori shrugged. “Bit hard to say, usually I’d suggest that we go snake hunting, but there’re two problems with that. The size of Smaug and the fact that he might be immune to the venom from his smaller cousins.”  
  
Óin hummed and adjusted his hearing aid. “And the biggest problem with plants is that it’s so late in the year. Most poisonous plants will already have withered, but the roots would still suit our purpose. But we’d need to search for them by leaves alone, and those might have started to die as well.”  
  
“Maybe the Men will know where they grow?” Ori suggested. “We could-“  
  
“That’ll take a fair amount of time though,” Bofur said with a sigh. “We’ve lost the ponies, remember? And I’d wager that going by foot to their town would take us at least a week.”  
  
Fíli sighed with the rest of the Company.  
  
“What does that matter?” Kíli asked, looking confused. “We’ve waited so long, what is a week more? Or a few weeks more for that matter?”  
  
“Well,” Bofur began, then he fell silent. “I can’t actually think of a thing to say to that,” he said with a frown. “But it just feels… wrong to wait.” He met Fíli’s eyes. “Am I the only one who feels that?”  
  
“No,” Fíli agreed, his eyebrows knitting together. “No I feel the same way.” The thought of leaving made his skin itch.

“Oh,” Óin said. “The Dragon-sickness, I had almost forgotten about it. That’s not-”  
  
“What do you mean?” Dori asked. “I’m not thinking about the treasure.” Fíli frowned, yeah, he hadn't been either.  
  
“Perhaps not,” Óin said with a shrug. “But imagine leaving the mountain and then tell me that you’d be able to do so with an unburdened heart.”  
  
“But surely it’s just natural to want to stay,” Dori protested. “We’ve hardly come this far only to leave again?”  
  
“But we’d come back,” Óin said calmly. “Why would you then have issue leaving? Especially just for a few short weeks. Nothing will change. Except for your distance to the _treasure_.”  
  
“I-“ Dori fell silent. “Oh dear.”  
  
“ _Dear Healer, are you telling us that we are still seduced by the vile wyrm’s magic_?” Bifur asked. “ _Even knowing as we do that it would try and lure us_?”  
  
“Indeed I am,” Óin said regretfully. “Who took care of the cup earlier?”

Fíli looked towards Glóin who shook his head. “Not me.”  
  
“I have it,” Ori said quietly. “I- it was just to pretty to let it lie in the dark and dust of the passage way. It’s in my bag.”  
  
Only then did Fíli notice the thrush that was perched on Ori’s shoulder. The bird rubbed its head against Ori’s cheek and cooed gently.   
  
“You’ll end up with flees,” Dori huffed and glared at the bird which glared back.  
  
“Should I get the cup?” Ori asked with a guilty expression.  
  
“It doesn’t matter, lad,” Óin said kindly. “But I think we should-“  
  
The ground suddenly rumbled.   
  
“Bilbo,” Bofur breathed and they all looked towards the dark square of the gate.  
  
“Thorin,” Fíli whispered, because if something had happened to Bilbo, Thorin would not sit idly by.   
  
Again it felt as if the mountain shook beneath them, and now they could also hear the distant roar of the Dragon.  
  
“We need to go inside and help them if we can,” Kíli said, looking at Fíli and then at Dwalin who nodded.  
  
“Aye.”  
  
However, they only got about half-way before they had to go back out again. Thankfully this was only because they ran into Thorin who was carrying Bilbo. It was hard to tell in the bad light, but their Hobbit seemed to be unhurt; Fíli based that on the relative calm of Thorin as much as Bilbo’s appearance. 

“-never again,” Fíli heard Thorin murmuring. “Never. That was too close.”

“It was my own fault,” Bilbo said mournfully, just as they reached the end of the tunnel. “I shouldn’t have laughed at him.”  
  
Fíli blinked. “You, uh, laughed at the Dragon? The big scaly thing that could probably eat four horses in one go and still be hungry?"  
  
“I didn’t mean to?” Bilbo offered, and now that the light from the sun shone upon them Fíli noticed how their Hobbit’s hands were shaking and how he wasn’t exactly asking to be set down, even though there was no reason for Thorin to keep holding him.   
  
He really didn’t look to be hurt, but there was thin wisps of smoke rising from his clothes, and a fair bit of hair seemed to have been sacrificed to the Dragon’s ire; both on his head and on his feet, because both sets of curls were decidedly shorter and more burnt than when Bilbo had gone into the mountain earlier that day.  
  
“But at least I learnt something important.”  
  
“Never laugh at Dragons?” Kíli offered.  
  
“Well, that too,” Bilbo said with a wry smile. “I tricked him, he showed me his belly, and there’s a spot on it where he’s completely bare. No scales, or golden plates or jewellery from the treasure. It’s not big-“ Bilbo hesitated. “Well, it’s probably about as big as me, but compared to the rest of him. That would be his weak spot.”  
  
“You tricked him?” Balin asked. “So you spoke to him?”  
  
“Yes, he knew I was there.”  
  
Fíli did not miss how that statement made his uncle’s jaw tighten all that much more.  
  
“But I think I said too much in return,” Bilbo said contritely. “I tried to confuse him, but I think it backfired in the end. I think he knows how we came to be here, so the people of Lake-town might be in danger for helping us. And he saw where I disappeared to, he was chasing me all the way into the tunnel, so he might also know where to look for us, once he has calmed down enough to think about it. I’m sorry.”  
  
“There is no need for you to be sorry,” Thorin said firmly, brushing his lips against the top of Bilbo’s head. “You’ve done well.”  
  
“But how are we to warn the Men?” Bilbo asked, turning his head to look up at Thorin. “What if he comes for them and it’s all my fault?”  
  
“Ori, your bird,” Nori said.  
  
“She’s not really my bird,” Ori hedged. “But what of her?”  
  
“It’s a she?” Fíli asked, surprised, then he waved his hand. “Not important, never mind me.”  
  
“It could fly with a message, if there is anyone in Lake-town that would know it’s language. Or it could find a raven and have them help.”  
  
“Could you do that for us?” Ori asked the bird still resting on his shoulder. “I would greatly appreciate it.”  
  
The bird tilted its head in quiet contemplation, then it nodded and sang a short thrill.  
  
“Good,” Balin said. “Then tell the Men of Bilbo’s discovery, and about the Dragon having woken up. Even if it might not realise that we’ve been aided by them, it could still be in the mood for a snack.”  
  
The bird nodded and then it cuddled against Ori’s cheek one last time before flying away.  
  
There was a short pained sound from Bilbo and when Fíli looked over, suspecting that Thorin’s arms had forgotten their strength again, it was to the sight of a ghastly pale Hobbit who had covered his mouth with one hand. Thorin might be holding him fairly tightly, but not in a manner that seemed to suggest that he’d been the cause of the sound.  
  
“I’m so very sorry,” Bilbo said with a husky voice. “I shouldn’t have taken the cup, and I should just have kept my mouth shut.”  
  
“Anything that happens is on my head,” Thorin said fiercely. “I bear responsibility for my Company. And you could not have known. Nor do we really know that anything will happen. The beast might just go to sleep again.”  
  
Bilbo only shook his head.  
  
“And we have a plan now!” Kíli exclaimed. “Things will be all right, Bilbo, don’t fret.”

“Kíli, please don’t take this the wrong way, but is this better than your plan to bang the poor birds’ heads against the mountain wall?”  
  
“Yes!” Then Kíli realised that he should be offended by Bilbo’s comment. “Hey, that plan wasn’t so bad. Who knows, it might even have worked.”  
  
“What is this plan?” Thorin asked.  
  
“We will try and poison the Dragon,” Balin explained. “Kíli suggested to shoot arrows into its mouth, but with Bilbo’s discovery we can now also aim for its week spot. If the poison gets into the blood stream, it will act faster.”  
  
“What poison is it that you speak of?” Thorin inquired. “I was not aware that we carried any with us.”  
  
“Maybe we should have asked the bird to check with the Men where we could fine some,” Nori murmured. “Didn’t think of that.”  
  
“There’s bound to be poisonous plants around once we leave the area that’s been desolated by the Dragon,” Balin told Thorin.   
  
“Leave?” Thorin’s frown deepened.   
  
“Not you too?” Kíli sighed. “Am I the only one normal around here?”  
  
“I think that makes you the abnormal one then,” Fíli pointed out and Kíli made a face.  
  
“Óin thinks,” Dwalin begun but their healer huffed.  
  
“ _Óin_ can speak for himself.” He looked at Thorin with a serious expression on his face. “It’s the gold-sickness. It’s logical to leave and return with the means to defeat the Dragon, it’s not logical to remain here and become more and more desperate. But we all-“  
  
“Not me!”  
  
“-excepting Kíli, still feel a strong aversion towards leaving. Which is why I feel we should.”  
  
“But we can’t.” To Fíli’s surprise it had been Bilbo who had protested. “Not _now_ I mean. It will be dark soon, and then we will either be stumbling around in the dark or be a clear invitation for Smaug to come and catch us. He might find us anyway, based on your smell. After all, that was why I was the one to go into the mountain to begin with.”

“Bilbo is right,” Thorin said. “We need to stay here tonight.”

Fíli caught the look Óin and Balin exchanged, but it wasn’t like Thorin and Bilbo were _wrong_ in what they were saying.   
  
If they left they would have the choice of walking around without the aid of torches, and making camp without fire, or they would literally signal to a certain Dragon where they were at.  
  
“We should go inside the tunnel,” Bilbo said. “He didn’t find us before, but now he knows how and where I entered the treasure chamber, and while he doesn’t know more than that, he won't stop his search until the entire mountain side is smashed to bits, and we with it. We should probably shut the door as well,” their Hobbit added.  
  
That turned out to be a problem, because while the door obediently swung on its hinges, the inside was just as blank as the outside, blanker even since even the keyhole was missing.  
  
“It must be possible to open,” Balin murmured. “But not in the same way as it opens from the outside as the sun couldn’t reach it.”  
  
“I say we leave it,” Dwalin said and crossed his arms. “I don’t much fancy looking myself inside the mountain with a Dragon.”  
  
“And I don’t much fancy getting burned!” Bilbo exclaimed (Thorin had finally agreed to set him down, which was lucky or else Bilbo would probably have hit him in the face when he waved his hands in agitation). “What if he comes here?” The Hobbit pointed towards his head. “This is what happens when he misses. What do you think will happen if he breathes fire on the entire mountainside. Or if half the mountain starts tumbling down the tunnel?”  
  
“We could just go further down,” Dwalin said. “I don’t see why shutting it would help.”  
  
“Because if he finds it, he will _know_ that we’re here,” Bilbo said. “If he doesn’t find the gate, then he will move on and keep looking.”  
  
“And we will be locked inside the mountain,” Dwalin argued.  
  
“That’s better than being dead!”  
  
There was not much Dwalin could say in the face of that, so he grunted and walked over to where Kíli had plonked himself down on the ground and joined him.  
  
“We have to shut the door,” Bilbo told Thorin. “I feel it all the way down to my bones. Please.”  
  
Night had now fallen during their investigation of the door from all sides, both from the outside and the inside as well as the edges of it, but it hadn't yielded any result. Not even a hint of how the lock worked either, because the door's edges were all completely smooth, something that had made Nori most annoyed as it meant the door was locked with some sort of magic and could not be picked.  
  
Everyone was already gathered inside the passage, and when Thorin slowly walked the last steps to the door no one argued. Fíli looked towards his brother and Dwalin, and Dwalin met his gaze and shrugged.

“Wait,” Fíli said. “Are we sure that we’re not just locking ourselves here because that’s what the Dragon-sickness wants us to do? Our plan was to leave.”  
  
“He’s coming,” Bilbo swore. “I promise you, I know he will. And if he finds us, or just the trace of us, then he’ll kill us.”  
  
Bifur nodded and got up. “ _I trust his instincts. He has saved us so many times before_.”

Only when Fíli noticed that Bilbo was looking warily as Bifur approached Thorin did he realise that Bilbo hadn’t understood what Bifur was saying. Bilbo was so much one of them now that he had forgotten that he would not know their tongue.

With a sigh Dori got to his feet as well. “Gold-sickness or not, if I have to die then I prefer to do it inside my home rather than at its gates. Let’s close the damned door.”  
  
“You swore!” Ori exclaimed with big eyes, and thankfully that eased the tension that had begun to build and everyone snorted or at least smiled slightly.  
  
Together Thorin, Bifur and Dori pushed the door shut, not hesitating or stopping until it closed with a snap. With the loss of the light from the stars and moon outside everything was suddenly very dark and Fíli fumbled for Bofur’s hand. Thankfully they’d been sitting next to each other, so it was not a difficult quest.  
  
“Thank you,” Bilbo said softly.


	84. Planning For the Unexpected Is Hard Simply Because It's Bloody Well Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've had a lot of courting, and definitely a lot of Dwarfs, and now it seems that the planning portion of this story really thickens. Which again, if anyone had been sensible, they would already have had a plan for almost any situation involving a Dragon, but as it is... Planning abounds. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilerfree for those who've not yet seen DoS. PJ and myself are doing different interpretations of the source material, which I'm sure comes as a surprise to all of you who thought I was secretly him. *a cricket chirps* You know, based on how awesome I am? *two crickets chirp and a pin drops to the floor*
> 
> Anyway... on with the story.

“Bilbo, please don’t take this the wrong way,” Bofur said in the total dark of the tunnel. “But are you sure that you didn’t make a bit of a mistake wanting us all to be shut in here? It’s been a good long while now, and-“  
  
The entire mountain shook.  
  
“Never mind,” Bofur sighed, leaning his head on Fíli’s shoulder. Or, at least Fíli assumed that it was indeed Bofur who was doing the leaning. It sounded and smelled like him, but in the blasted darkness it was a bit hard to see.  
  
The mountain shook again and suddenly the air was beginning to feel a fair bit warmer.  
  
“He must be breathing fire against the entire mountainside,” Balin murmured. “I suggest that we go a little further down into the tunnel. I’m not sure how keen his sense of smell is, but we’d best not find out.”  
  
“Even if that little bird does not get the message to Lake-town in time I doubt that they will miss what is happening,” Ori said with a sigh, and it was echoed by Bilbo.  
  
It took some fumbling and falling before everyone was moving in the right direction, and after a while Fíli realised that he could see again, the tunnel was no longer completely black.  
  
“We must be getting closer to the treasure chamber then,” he murmured to Bofur.  
  
“Indeed.” Bofur shook his head. “And may I point out that it’s fairly stupid to have a secret passage leading straight into the rooms that you’d rather keep people out of? That’s rather like keeping your valuables in the front hall.”

“Duly noted,” Thorin said drily and Bofur winced.  
  
“No offence intended of course,” he added.  
  
“There’s too much of it to steal anyway,” Bilbo pointed out. “If the company was big enough to form a line down the entire tunnel we would be at it for… I don’t even know how long. Er,” Bilbo hesitated. “But perhaps we shouldn’t talk about that, Dragon-sickness and all. And on that subject, should we even be going to the treasure chambers in the first place?”

“We all know about it now,” Balin reasoned. “Surely that’s going to help with the pull?”  
  
“You sure that’s not the sickness speaking?” Óin asked with a sigh, but Fíli noticed how their healer didn’t exactly stop either.  
  
“Kíli, do you think we should stop?” Fíli asked since his brother seemed to be the only one, perhaps together with Bilbo as their Hobbit had just suggeted that they'd stop, who wasn’t affected by the idea of the treasure.  
  
“I kind of want to see the treasure,” Kíli admitted and Bilbo sighed.  
  
“Great, that’s everyone then.”  
  
“Now don’t be so hasty,” Kíli protested. “I just said I wanted to see it, I have no desire to pet it or stuff it down my trousers.”  
  
“Everyone, halt for a moment,” Dwalin said. “I think we should talk about-“  
  
“Kíli wanting to stuff things down his trousers?” Bombur suggested.  
  
“I said I _didn’t_ want to do that!”

“Shut it,” Dwalin told Bombur. “If we really are affected by the Dragon-sickness, then it might indeed be a bad idea to go into the treasure chambers. Especially if the damned Dragon will show up again.”  
  
“I think we’ll hear it coming,” Bilbo said. “I’m not sure if I mentioned this? But it’s big. _Very_ big.”  
  
“Dwalin has a point,” Thorin agreed. “It might come back so we should not split up, and if we absolutely have to, no one will go anywhere alone. Always go with someone else.”  
  
“So they can help you stuff things down your trousers.”  
  
“Shut it.”  
  
“If you’re quite done,” Bilbo said with a sigh. “Then I think I should wear my ring again and go and make sure that the Dragon has indeed left. If you all come stampeding down there, and he’s still there, then it won’t end prettily for us. It’s been a while since I heard him from the outside.”  
  
Fíli was expecting Thorin to argue, but apparently his uncle had quite given up by now, because he only gathered Bilbo close for a quick embrace before letting him go again.  
  
Seeing Bilbo trot off towards a potential Dragon really didn’t improve with time, Fíli decided as Bilbo disappeared behind a curve in the path.  
  
The light was stronger now, and Fíli could see the anticipation on most of the faces around him, and he expected that it was mirrored on his own. His grandfather’s treasure was legendary, and Fíli didn’t think that you’d have to be inflicted by a sickness to want to see it. He did a quick test on himself. Did he want to pet anything golden? Not really. Stuff it down his trousers? Nope. Fíli then imagined picking up a golden cup and giving it away. That one was a bit trickier. Giving it to Bofur was fine. He liked being able to give Bofur nice things.  
  
Imagining giving it to an Elf on the other hand. That was not happening. But was that because of the Elf-thing or because of Dragon-sickness. Where did the middle ground begin?  
  
“I think it’s clear,” Bilbo suddenly said, making most of them jump as they’d not heard him coming. “I even accused him of being a overgrown worm and there was no reply.”  
  
Thorin muttered something Fíli could not quite make-out, but given the way his uncle gathered Bilbo close it was probably something relating to the relative wisdom of taunting Dragons after you’d already been burnt once.  
  
They continued down, and quite abruptly the tunnel broadened and then it ended. The Company found themselves standing on a small platform overlooking Erebor’s treasure chambers. And it was indeed a sight to behold.  
  
“Wow,” Ori said faintly, and Fíli could only agree. He couldn’t even see where the room _ended_ , and everywhere there were piles and piles of golden treasure. Everything from coins to entire armour sets, however impractical it would be to don golden armour they looked very impressive.  
  
“Okay, I have to admit,” Bombur said. “Now _I_ want to stuff some down my trousers.”  
  
“Wow,” Ori said again and Bombur laughed. “No, no,” their scribe protested. “I just, we’re _home_.”

Fíli blinked and then raised his gaze from the golden treasure to sweep it over the stone arches and statues and the walls, the floor, the- well, he couldn’t actually see the roof, it was too dark, but he knew that it was up there somewhere.  
  
“Home,” he echoed. “ _Erebor_.” Before he could begin to fumble for Bofur’s hand it was pressed into his and Fíli squeezed it gratefully.  
  
“The lonely mountain is a little less lonely now,” Bofur murmured.

Fíli looked towards Kíli, who was tucked in under Dwalin’s arm, gazing around in undisguised wonder, and then to Thorin, who seemed to be comforting Bilbo? They were embracing, and Bilbo was hardly touching the ground as Thorin’s grip on him around his waist was that firm. Bilbo’s face was tucked into Thorin’s neck, Thorin’s head resting on top of it, but they were turned away from Fíli, so he couldn’t see- _Oh_.

“Uncle is _leaking_ ,” Fíli hissed to Bofur. Because Thorin had turned his head and those were tears! It wasn’t Bilbo who was the comforted, it was Thorin. “Why is he crying, we’re-“  
  
“Fíli, love, there is such a thing as happy tears, look at Balin,” Bofur murmured and Fíli did and noticed that the white-haired Dwarf’s eyes were also suspiciously wet but his smile was bright. “And, don’t forget, there’s still the Dragon to-“  
  
As if he’d known that they’d been speaking about him, another shudder shook the mountain.  
  
“I think I’m going to keep my mouth shut about certain winged snakes from now on,” Bofur murmured, pinching his mouth shut when the mountain shook once more.  
  
Everyone spent a few minutes not looking at each other as they all got themselves sorted out, and when Fíli looked to Thorin again, the tears were gone, but the comforting; slightly worried, way Bilbo kept petting at Thorin’s hand and arm seemed to indicate that the blond had not just hallucinated the entire thing. And Balin kept sniffing, blaming the dust.

“So what’s the plan now,” Glóin demanded. “I hardly think we’re going to find any poison lying around in here. If we are to find any, we need to leave these halls.”  
  
“But the Dragon could still come back,” Nori protested.  
  
“Is that common sense, or is that the Dragon-sickness not wanting to leave the treasure?” Bofur asked, lifting his hat to scratch at his head. “Because I really don’t know anymore.”

“Either we stay here, or we go somewhere that is too narrow for him to follow us,” Thorin decided. “So we would need to avoid the main halls, but the only way from here would inevitably take us to them. And if the beast comes back at that moment…”  
  
Bofur raised one hand and pretended to weigh something. “Common sense.” He raised his other. “Or Dragon-sickness? Because that sounds like another vote to stay here.”  
  
“What do you think then?” Dwalin asked, crossing his arms.  
  
“Maybe we should go back into the tunnels?” Kíli said before got the chance to reply. “It’s the only thing no one is suggesting, so  perhaps that’s the best thing to do?”  
  
“But if Smaug returns he will know from the smell that we’ve been here, and if he realises that we’re here still, and in the tunnel, all he will have to do is to lay down with his jaws on this end, and we will have no hope of escape,” Nori argued.  
  
“He doesn’t know that the other end is sealed though,” Dori pointed out.  
  
“No, but I think he’ll figure that out when he notices how we’re still inside the tunnels after the first week or so,” Nori replied.  
  
"Oh no," Ori breathed.  
  
"I think I prefered you saying 'wow'," Bombur said with a doubtful glance at their scribe.  
  
"Did anyone bring any food or water before we shut the gate?"  
  
The silence seemed to indicate that no, no one had.  
  
"So we're definitely not staying here then," Bofur sighed.  
  
"How could we forget something like that?" Bombur wailed.  
  
"Dragon-sickness," Óin murmured. "Most likely."  
  
From there they just talked in a circle for quite a while, until Bifur clapped his hands sharply. What followed from there was a rather spirited charades that suggested that they might need to split up.  
  
“But we just said that we shouldn’t,” Kíli protested and Bifur made the signs for ‘ _One_ Dragon, 13 Dwarfs, one Burglar’ (which as an aside probably meant that there really was no sign for Hobbit, if Bifur didn’t know it).  
  
“He can’t really be in more than one place at once,” Bofur agreed reluctantly.  
  
“But then we’d all be acting as baits,” Dori argued. “The ones he’d come after-“  
  
“If we’re all in one place and he comes after us that’s not really that great either,” Bombur argued. “I’m too young and handsome to be eaten. There’s so many pretty ladies I’ve not yet met.”

“Where do we need to go then,” Balin said with a sigh, turning towards Thorin. “There might be things we can use down at the forges, and in the physicians’ quarters-“  
  
“Perfume and most other cosmetics are not really meant to be ingested,” Dori pointed out and Óin snorted.  
  
“Killing a Dragon with perfume, that would be a sight.”  
  
“And a smell,” Bombur pointed out, then he looked thoughtful. “If we find any then perhaps we could make a trap? Lure him to someplace of our choosing? Oh and we really need to stop by the kitchens and the supply rooms. Even cram is better than starving.”

“Before we go anywhere,” Thorin said. “We might consider searching here for better armour and weapons. At least for an hour or so. It won’t help against fire, but it might serve despite of that.”  
  
“That really sounds like a good idea,” Bofur said hesitantly. “Which makes me wonder if it’s really a bad idea since it’s again a suggestion that we just stay here.”  
  
Everyone sighed.  
  
“Kíli, Bilbo?” Fíli asked. “What do you think?”  
  
Kíli shrugged. “If there are arrows lying around here somewhere they are going to be a fair deal better than the ones I have left.”  
  
Bilbo fidgeted a little. “As I’m the only one who doesn’t actually have any armour…”  
  
“We’ll take an hour to search then,” Thorin decided, pressing Bilbo closer to his side. “And if you happen to stumble on the Arkenstone-“  
  
“Arkenstone?” Bilbo asked.  
  
“You’ll know it when you see it, lad,” Balin said.  
  
“It’s a jewel,” Bofur explained as Bilbo just kept looking confused. “A bit smaller than your fist, white but at the same time not.”  
  
“White but not white,” Bilbo muttered. “That’s very helpful, thank you. And why are we looking for this again? There’s got to be thousands of gems lying around in here.”  
  
“It belongs to me,” Thorin said shortly and Bilbo snorted.  
  
“Unlike the rest of this?”  
  
“It’s the King’s jewel,” Balin clarified. “A sign that the King has the divine right to rule, a gift from Mahal himself.”  
  
“Right,” Bilbo said after a moment. “I’m sure that makes a world of sense to you. But I’ll look for it, I promise.”  
  
“No one is to go off alone,” Thorin warned. “Stay in pairs or more. Bilbo-“  
  
“Like I’m going to let you go off on your own,” Bilbo told him. “You got lost in _Hobbiton_ of all places.”  
  
“It’s different under ground, lad,” Glóin said with a smile as Thorin tried to look like someone who had never been lost a moment in their life. “We know stone in a way that we don’t earth.”  
  
Bilbo looked sceptical, but did not argue. He did pat Thorin’s hand again though, and to Fíli that looked an awful lot like ‘I promise I won’t let you get lost’.  
  
"Which way do you want to go?" he asked Bofur who shrugged.  
  
"Lead on, my prince, and I shall follow."  
  
"He just wants to look at your arse," Bombur whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter ^^ Not sure why, but I do.


	85. Everything Is Not Gold That Glimmers, There Are Other Metals As Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein there are fake-kidnappings, idea-stealings and scarf-snatching. Amongst other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm sure you've noticed, Christmas is around the corner, I hope to update this next weekend as normal, but if not, bear with me, I'll be back once the Holidays are done.
> 
> But fairly long chapter now, so yayay!

The search for weapons wasn't going all that great.  
  
Fíli kept getting distracted by the incredible treasures which were to be found inside the vast halls that had been Smaug's lair.  
  
It was impossible to take even a single step without treading on gold, jewels, or precious stones. The floor was covered with them in a thick layer. How thick exactly Fíli couldn’t even guess. He’d tried digging down to the floor in one spot, but had been forced to give up since more gold just kept sliding down from the surrounding piles, filling in the hole he’d been making. It was _amazing_.  
  
Fíli ran his fingers over a golden brooch with peridots, the gold worked into the shape of a hammer. It would look so good on Bofur’s cloak, and the gems were almost the exact colour of his eyes. But he’d already found another pin before, in the shape of a bird with  jade and onyx for love and protection and he wanted Bofur to have them both. But maye it would look silly if he wore them both at once? They’d never really been able to get to this part of the courting, the part where gifts were exchanged, so surely he was allowed to gift his future husband with-  
  
Fíli looked up. Where… was Bofur anyway?  
  
"Bofur?" the blond called, looking around. He couldn’t see Bofur anywhere. Just more… Fíli swallowed. More _gold_. The dragon-sickness. They hadn’t been supposed to get separated, but…  
  
“Bofur?!” Fíli called again, getting up from where he’d been crouching and peering anxiously across the heaps of priceless objects. He still couldn’t-  
  
Wait. _There_. The shape of a familiar hat, so out of place amongst the shining metal.  
  
Bofur hummed distractedly when Fíli scrambled over to where he was sitting, next to a large pile of cut gemstones. Bofur didn’t look up, only kept examining the stones. “Hey, love,” he said absently.  
  
“Bofur,” Fíli breathed as he came to a skidding halt. “Why didn’t you answer when I called you?”  
  
“You called?” Bofur asked, turning a blue gem this way and that way, frowning thoughtfully.  
  
Fíli cupped Bofur’s cheek, turning his head until their eyes met.  
  
“Hullo,” Bofur smiled, and Fíli sighed in relief, which were very short-lived as Bofur’s gaze immediately flitted back down to the gem again. “No, that’s not it either,” he murmured, throwing the gem over his shoulder and moving towards the pile of not yet investigated stones. Fíli firmed his hold on Bofur’s jaw.  
  
“Bofur, you _need_ to listen to me,” Fíli said, moving to straddle Bofur’s lap, the brooch that he’d found falling from his hand; forgotten. Fíli cupped Bofur’s face with both hands and pressed their foreheads together. “You need to stop doing whatever it is that you’re doing.”  
  
“But I’ve not yet found a stone that’s the same colour as your eyes,” Bofur protested and despite himself Fíli smiled slightly. It would seem that they had shared pretty much the same idea.  
  
“We’re supposed to be looking for weapons? Remember? Before the _Dragon_ comes back.”  
  
“Dragon?” Bofur blinked. “Oh. Dragon.”  
  
“Fire breathing, incinerating thing of doom,” Fíli nodded. “Dragon.” He leaned forward and kissed the corner of Bofur’s mouth. “I think it’s the Dragon-sickness. I was distracted too.”  
  
He could feel the shape of the bird pin that he’d found in his coat pocket. And suddenly it felt a lot heavier than it should.  
  
“Oh,” Bofur said again, hands coming up to rest at the small of Fíli’s back. “Dragon-sickness?”  
  
“Yes, I think so,” Fíli said slowly. “I started looking for weapons, like we said we would, and you were right beside me. And then…” he frowned. “I don’t know what happened, but I found myself alone, digging through piles of jewellery to find something for you.” Fíli’s smile was a bit wry as he fished the pin up from his pocket. “It’s a fairly pretty thing, but I hardly think we’re going to kill any Dragons with it.”  
  
Bofur traced his finger over the bird’s head and down its tail. “It’s lovely. For me?”  
  
Fíli nodded. “Maybe it can remind us that we need to be on our guard? I just- I wanted to find something that would show how much I love you. I didn’t bring any courting gifts on the quest. I hadn’t really expected to- you know, to find you.”  
  
“You don’t need to give me anything,” Bofur said softly, leaning in for a kiss. “I only need one thing and he’s sitting in my lap.”  
  
Fíli looked down in feigned surprise. “Oh, that’s me.”  
  
“Daft,” Bofur said fondly. “Completely daft.”  
  
“And yours,” Fíli replied, stealing another kiss. “But really, we should check on the others. If they’re also entranced by the gold, we need to do something. Hopefully Bilbo and Kíli have been able to check on Dwalin and Thorin, but the others…”  
  
“We need to find another method of dealing with them then,” Bofur  said as they both got back on their feet again. “I’m not overly fond of the idea of you sitting in their lap and kissing them back into level-headedness again.”  
  
“That makes two of us then,” Fíli said with a grimace as he reached up to pin the bird to Bofur’s collar. “There, now that’ll be sure to remind us.”  
  
“That you’re daft?” Bofur asked innocently.  
  
“You need reminding of that?” Fíli replied, snagging Bofur’s hand. “Come now, let’s find the others.”  
  
-  
  
The first ones they found were Nori, Dori and Ori who were all sorting through a pile of golden coins.  
  
Fíli wasn’t entirely sure what they were looking for, and snapping them out of it took as much luck as actually planning.  
  
Nori was the easiest one for some reason. Bofur just had to start messing with his hair and that apparently annoyed him enough for him to stop doing whatever it was they were doing with the coins and begin scolding Bofur instead.  
  
Ori they tried luring away with other things he liked, like talking about books and writing (“And that cute girl working at the clothing store,” Nori coaxed. “If you stay here, you’ll never see her again.”) But what finally did it was Nori stealing Ori’s scarf.  
  
“Nori,” Ori whined, releasing the coins to clutch at his scarf. “Stop that. It’s mine.”  
  
“I didn’t think that you’d miss it,” Nori said, still pulling at the knitted thing. “Considering how busy you were with the gold and all.”  
  
“Gold?” Ori looked down at the pile of coins and Dori still digging through them. “Oh.”  
  
“Yeah, oh,” Nori said wryly. “Come on now, little brother, let’s shake Dori out of this as well.”  
  
Dori proved to be a little more stubborn, and it wasn’t until they pretended to ‘kidnap’ Ori that he even looked up from the gold.  
  
“Help!” Ori called as Nori and Fíli carried him away, Bofur holding his scarf; trying for a menacing expression but only succeeding in looking adorably confused and Fíli had to give himself a stern talking to because this was not the time for a tumble, there were people around and it was probably uncomfortable to do it on a pile of gold anyway, although…  
  
The blond shook his head. Nope, none of that. Nothing gold-related, thank you very much.  
  
“Help, hel-, _ow_!” Ori protested as Nori pinched him. The thief shrugged.  
  
“I thought I’d help you sound more convincing.”  
  
Ori’s gaze narrowed. “Maybe I can help you choke on your braids?”  
  
“Later, if you _can_ ,” Nori smirked. “Now scream a little more convincing, or we’ll need to try something else.”  
  
“HELP!” Ori yelled and Dori flinched, looking up and around.  
  
“Ori?”  
  
“He’s alive!” Nori cheered. “Dori I mean.”  
  
Ori’s shout had had the fortunate side effect of getting Bifur and Bombur to snap out of their own states of gold appreciation. It seemed they’d been just a gold hill away, and shortly after Ori had shouted their heads popped up over the edge.  
  
“Everything okay?” Bombur called. "We heard screaming, and it didn't sound like the happy sort."  
  
“Getting there,” Bofur replied, handing the scarf back to Ori. "I mean, towards the okay. Not the happy screaming."  
  
-  
  
Glóin and Óin proved fairly stubborn at first. Though only at first.  
  
They’d only needed to remind Glóin of his wife and child, and point out that he was petting a golden vase and what his wife would think of that, to get him to stop.  And shortly after that Nori got an idea of what could snap Óin out of it.  
  
Unfortunately pretending that they were injured did not work. Óin just scoffed, continued to shine a the golden frame of a mirror, and told them that they were just being silly, they could try and pull that on another healer, he was busy. And since no one particularly fancied getting injured for real they had to think of something else.  
  
“ _Bofurment_ sounds like a lovely title for a medicin, don’t you think?” Bofur said casually to Fíli.  
  
Fíli nodded seriously.  
  
“No it doesn’t-“ Dori began, but Nori (just as casually) put his hand over his brother’s mouth.  
  
“It’s a gorgeous name,” Nori agreed. "Much better than ointment."  
  
“Don’t you think?” Bofur said. “I figured that if Óin just wants to sit here, I could-“  
  
“Now wait a damned moment,” Óin huffed. “You can’t just-“  
  
“So you’re not just sitting here then?” Bofur asked.  
  
And indeed, Óin was not. Muttering he got to his feet.  
  
Only Kíli, Dwalin and Balin, and Thorin and Bilbo left… and Fíli wasn’t worried. Nope, of course he wasn’t. Because his brother and Bilbo hadn’t even been affect by the Dragon-sickness before. So they would be okay. As would the others. That none of them were to be found… that was just temporary.  
  
After what had felt like an Age someone finally answered their calls.  
  
“Fíli?”  
  
“Kíli!” Fíli called back. “Where are you?”  
  
“Over here!”  
  
That wasn’t particularly helpful, but it only took a little more searching before they came across the trio.  
  
It seemed that Fíli had indeed been right, because unlike the rest of them, his brother had together with Dwalin and Balin actually found some weapons and armour. Sure, the way Dwalin was fondling his new axe (was that _mithril_ on the handle?) was a bit… disturbing, but apart from that they seemed just fine. Like Fíli had known that they’d be. Yeah. And Kíli had lots of new arrows, so that was great.  
  
“Only Thorin and Bilbo left now,” Fíli murmured  and Bofur squeezed his hand.  
  
“I’m sure they’re just around here somewhere as well, they went the same way as these three when we split up before.”  
  
Unfortunately Bofur wasn’t entirely correct in this. No one wanted to split up again just in case the sickness managed to sneak its way into their heads once more, so everyone walked together, calling out for Thorin and Bilbo. But no one answered.  
  
Then they discovered Bilbo’s coat on the ground.  
  
“Please don’t let them… _do_ anything,” Kíli said faintly. “Something without clothes. Right. Dwalin? I’m closing my eyes now, please carry me?”  
  
Dwalin just snorted and cuffed the back of Kíli’s head. “Behave.”  
  
“Or what?” Kíli asked innocently, pressing into Dwalin’s side and Fíli sighed threw a coin at his brother’s head.  
  
“You’re not going to be _doing_ anything either, so save that for when you’re alone.”  
  
Then he threw a coin at Bombur as well, just pre-emptively.  
  
After a few more minutes of searching they quite literally stumbled over Bilbo. They almost didn’t see him, because he was wearing armour (good, that meant that they’d actually found some of the things they’d been searching for) which blended into the gleaming backdrop of metal, even more so because Bilbo was lying on the ground (bad), causing Ori to do a little dance to avoid stepping on him.  
  
“Bilbo?” Bofur asked worriedly, sinking down on his knees beside their Hobbit.  
  
A small snore answered him.  
  
“He’s _asleep_?” Dori asked. “A Dragon can come back at any moment and we’re standing on what has to be the greatest treasure the world has ever seen and he’s _sleeping_? Well, I’ve never-“  
  
“At least he’s dressed,” Kíli muttered. “But where’s uncle Thorin? Thorin!”  
  
“Don’t go far,” Fíli warned when most of the company began to spread out, safe in the belief that Thorin wouldn’t have gone far if their burglar was here. “We’ll be right with you.”  
  
“Bilbo,” Bofur nudged Bilbo’s shoulder. “Time to wake up.”  
  
“Sleeping now,” Bilbo muttered. “Please come back later.”  
  
“No, that’s what the _Dragon_ plans on doing,” Fíli said as he unceremoniously lifted Bilbo up to wobble unsteadily as he blinked awake.  
  
“Dragon?”  
  
“Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks, extremely fond of precious metals-“ Bofur said and slipped his arm around Bilbo’s waist to help hold him up.  
  
“Not this again,” Bilbo said crossly. Then he seemed to wake up once and for all. “Wait, I fell asleep? Where’s Thorin?”  
  
“We’re trying to figure that out,” Bofur nodded. “I like the armour you’ve found though.”  
  
“Thorin gave it to me.” Bilbo blushed and Fíli pretended that he hadn’t noticed because he didn’t want to know why getting armour would require a blush. Just in case Kíli had  been right about certain activities requiring a lack of clothes.  
  
“WE'VE FOUND HIM!” Dwalin bellowed from some distance away.  
  
“Thorin?” Bilbo slipped away from their hold and scampered away across the golden piles.  
  
-  
  
Much like Bofur had been, Thorin was digging through a large pile of gemstones.  
  
“He’s looking for the Arkenstone,” Balin muttered.  
  
“Thorin?” Bilbo said, crouching down beside him. “We need to go now.”  
  
“Yes, yes,” Thorin nodded. “I just need to-“  
  
“Now,” Dwalin prompted. “Before the Dragon comes back.”  
  
Thorin didn’t even look up. “We’ll hear him coming.”  
  
“Thorin, we said that we’d go-“ Bilbo began.  
  
“Perhaps you should sleep a little more?” Thorin glanced up at Bilbo and smiled. “You were so tired before, you fell asleep while I held you and-“  
  
“La la la,” Kíli said, stuffing his fingers into his ears.  
  
“- I’m sure I’ll be finished soon anyway. I’ll come and get you.”  
  
“So what’s the plan now?” Fíli whispered to Bofur who shrugged.  
  
“I guess we can’t pretend to be the Dragon, maybe we can pretend to kidnap Bilbo like we did Ori?”  
  
“I’m quite awake now,” Bilbo told Thorin, ignoring everyone else. “And I’d like to leave. And you need to come with us.”  
  
“Fíli will look after you then,” Thorin said, his attention turning back to the pile of gems he was rifling through, eyes distant. “I’ll join you as soon as-“  
  
“ _No_ ,” Bilbo said firmly. “You need to come with us _now_.”  
  
Fíli nodded. “Uncle, we can’t-“  
  
“I’m not yet done,” Thorin said, just as firmly as Bilbo and twice as stubbornly. “If you don’t wish to wait-”  
  
“Dwalin?” Bilbo turned to look at the warrior. “Can you please carry Thorin out of here?”  
  
“Carry!” Thorin spluttered. “Over my dead-“  
  
“That’s- no,” Bilbo interrupted and pressed a finger to Thorin’s mouth. “Shush.”  
  
“You can’t-“ Thorin protested, slightly muffled, but Bilbo only shushed him again.  
  
“What is he doing?” Nori whispered. “Is this really the time for a domestic?” He nudged Dwalin. “ _Can_ you carry him out of here?”  
  
“Probably,” Dwalin said slowly. “But if he’s awake to fight it it won’t be easy.”  
  
“We’re _not_ knocking him over the head,” Fíli said determinedly. “What if the Dragon comes back?”  
  
“Oh please don’t,” Kíli said faintly and when Fíli turned his attention back to Thorin and Bilbo it was to discover the pair kissing.  
  
“No, please no,” Fíli said, turning away.  
  
“Lads,” Balin sighed. “Sooner or later you might as well get used to it.”  
  
“ _Later_ ,” Fíli and Kíli chorused.

“Bilbo?” Thorin said after a few more (long) moments, sounding very confused, almost like someone who's just woken up.  
  
“Yes, and there _you_ are,” Bilbo said, relief heavy in his voice. “Ready to go now?”  
  
“I- the others?”  
  
“Are all here,” Dwalin grunted, reaching down to clasp Thorin's arm and help him up. “We’re just waiting for your lazy arse. I think you’re all just using this Dragon-sickness as a reason to play around and-”  
  
“ _Lazy_ -?“ Thorin protested, and Bilbo patted him on the arm.  
  
“Well, I was the one who fell asleep, but to my defence, I’ve not slept since before I first went into the mountain, and that seems like an awfully long time ago.”  
  
“Can we go now?” Kíli pleaded. “Before any Dragons come back or more attempts are made on my sanity? I've got arrows, and to be honest, I don't think even the best of armour will make a difference against the Dragon.”  
  
Everyone looked to Thorin who still looked a little out of it, but his eyes were a lot more clear and awake than they’d been just a minute ago.  
  
“We’ll... go up to the south-west guard post,” Thorin decided. “It’s the closest one, and from there we might see the Dragon. And if he comes back, we can just go down into the mines, he won’t be able to follow us.”  
  
“Great,” Bofur said, clapping his hands. “Let’s go.” He looked around, and Fíli followed his gaze. No walls were to be seen in any direction, just the ever increasing darkness. “So, which way is out?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, and sorry for any errors. Posted this while my family demanded my attention, so I've not really read through it.


	86. Ding Dong ,The Dragon’s Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *points at the title* Guess what the chapter is about? :D Guess!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year :)

"All I'm saying that it’s not like I've ever been down here before," Bofur complained when Bombur started teasing him about being a bad miner who couldn't find his way out of a sack. “It’s the _treasure chambers_ , who’d let someone like me in here to have gander?”  
   
"This way," Thorin said, beginning to make his way through the piles of gold, Bilbo following at his heels.  
  
“See,” Bofur said to Bombur and pointed to Thorin. “ _King_. He knows. He’s been here before.”  
  
Not as king though, Fíli mused as they trekked through the hall. Not as someone’s husband. Not as his mother’s only brother. Not as an uncle. Not as-  
  
“Fíli,” Bombur said, slinging his arm over the blond’s shoulders and mushing him up against his well-padded side. “Now Bofur will be sitting on his arse, playing with gems instead of finding them-“  
  
“Hey,” Bofur protested, turning around to glare.  
  
“Getting properly stout instead of the runt he is now-“  
  
“You can’t call your older brother a _runt_. There’s got to be a rule or something.”  
  
“-please tell me that you won’t forget his family.”  
  
“You want to be allowed to sit on your arse and play with jewels as well?” Fíli asked, amused, turning his head to look at Bombur.  
  
“I’d rather have someone else play with my jewels, if it’s all the same to you,” Bombur snickered. “If only you had a sister.”  
  
Fíli blinked and Bofur covered his face with one hand. “Bombur, _no_.”  
  
“On behalf of the sister I don’t have, I think I agree with Bofur,” Fíli said and patted Bombur’s arm.  
  
“Are you saying that I wouldn’t be allowed to marry your sister?” Bombur asked, a crushed expression on his face. “I- ooph!”  
  
Bifur snagged Bombur by his braid and yanked lightly on it, and Fíli laughed as the warrior quickly signed how Bombur’s married life would be. (Fíli also took the opportunity to squirm out from beneath Bombur’s arm and join Bofur instead, who was proving that he had actually had a wonderful sense of direction as he managed to walk in the right direction even with his hand still covering his face, blinding him).  
  
“So what if she’d lead me around by my beard,” Bombur shrugged. “I like that in a lady. But do you know what I like most in a lady?”  
  
“Don’t _ask_ ,” Bofur moaned. “Where’s Thorin, maybe we can leave Bombur here. Just for the next century or so. Or I can stay.”  
  
“ _Me_!” Bombur beamed.  
  
“Well, you are incredibly precious,” Fíli said, nudging Bofur’s shoulder.  
  
Deciding to give the ignore-Bombur-and-see-if-that-makes-him-shut-up strategy another go was surely a good option? Regardless of how many times he’d tried before?  
  
“And more lovely than anything found within these walls," Fíli finished, stroking his hand down Bofur's arm.  
  
Bofur shook his head, but he did peek out from behind his hand to give Fíli an exasperated glance.  
  
“Daft, very,” Fíli nodded. “You don’t need to say it. Doesn’t mean it’s not true though. The part about you I mean.”  
  
“Make them stop?” Bombur asked Bifur who snorted and cuffed the back of his cousin’s head. “They’re just so _sweet_.”  
  
“Go walk somewhere else then,” Bofur sighed.  
  
“But Dwalin and Kíli is behind us and Thorin and Bilbo in front of us,” Bombur complained. “And they’re not _any_ better.”

“Better for us,” Bofur murmured, reaching out to take Fíli’s hand.  
  
“Brother I can’t believe you said that,” Bombur protested and Fíli waited for Arda to remake itself by the irony hiding in that statement. Nothing happened though, which was probably for the best really.  
  
They made their way out into a long hallway, and Fíli did his best to memorise the paths Thorin led them up after that, but it wasn't all that easy.  
   
He could tell that they were going up, because the ground was going up. And they were likely going south and wear because, erm, south west guard tower. Hey, any reasoning was good reasoning.

Everything was quiet, and stunningly beautiful. Even the parts of Erebor that had clearly not benefitted from having a trespassing Dragon move by every now and again were beautiful and Fíli’s heart sang as he looked at proud arches and detailed mosaics, at masterfully made staircases and lovingly crafted statues and busts. And everywhere he looked, everything told him that he was home.  
  
“Bofur,” he murmured, squeezing the hand still in his. “We’re _home_. We really are. We’re _here_.”  
  
“We are, love,” Bofur’s green eyes were wide and wondrous, and he trailed his free hand along a smoothly polished wall.  Fíli’s grip tightened and his cheeks started to ache from his smile.

-  
  
“Um, so, guard post?” Bilbo asked as they’d finished climbing up the last stair case, some of the Company huffing more and louder than others. “I assumed, I don’t know, windows? Considering there was talk about how we might see the Dragon.” Bilbo waved his hand and spun around on the spot, looking around the room. “This looks like a tower. A nice tower, mind, but there’s a decided lack of-“  
  
While Bilbo had been talking Thorin had walked up to a round stone in the wall and said the Khuzdul word for light as he’d pressed his palm to it.  
  
“-windows…” Bilbo trailed off as light begun streaming into the tower narrow windows appearing at three sides of the tower. “ _How_ -?”  
  
“It is not just your ring that is able to  work magic,” Balin smiled, spreading his arms out as proudly as if he’d been the one to once work the enchantment. Perhaps he had, even if Fíli had never seen him do anything similar. Anything seemed possible at that moment.  
  
“Were the windows there all along?” Ori asked, hesitantly; but curiously, waving his hand in one of the spaces just having formed, the gap was just wide enough for him to be able to fit ihis arm through to the elbow. “Just hidden? Or did they appear just now?”  
  
“Very good question,” Balin nodded.  
  
“He doesn’t know,” Dwalin snorted, and Balin turned to glare at his brother. “Well, you don’t. You’ve said that-”  
  
“That’s quite enough out of you,” Balin said firmly.  
  
“And you always say ‘good question’ when you’re trying to think of something to say that’s not-“  
  
“I hear there are spells of silence,” Balin said, crossing his arms. “Cast on the dungeons. Care to investigate that for me, brother?”  
  
“AAH!” Ori yelled and everyone turned his way.  
  
“The Dragon?” Dwalin asked, hands already on his axes even though there was no point. Did he think that he would be able to throw them out the windows? That would _never_ \- it was about there Fíli realised that his own hands were at the hilts of his throwing daggers. Um. Well, at least they would fit through the narrow gaps.  
  
“No, the bird is back,” Ori said, pulling his hand back inside “And she scared years off my life.”  
  
A soft thrill could be heard, and then the agitated fluttering of feathers as the thing tried to squeeze through one of the windows without breaking a wing.  
  
Nori slapped Dori on his back. “You want to have a talk with the bird about treating our brother right, or should I do it?”  
  
Ori turned a fairly impressive scowl Nori’s way and the thief held up his hands. “All I’m saying is that it seems _very_ fond of you. If we don’t talk to it-”  
  
“ _Her._ “ Ori winced as he realised what that sounded like.  
  
“Her-“ Nori continued smoothly. “Then something might happen and I’m much too young to be uncle to a bunch of eggs.”  
  
“Eggs…” Kíli muttered. “Always with the _eggs_.”  
  
“Yes, we never quite finished that conversation, did we?” Bilbo said pointedly, and Kíli edged himself behind Dwalin. Thorin looked questioningly at Bilbo who just sighed and shook his head.  
  
“Never mind. “  
  
During this the bird had managed to fit itself through one of the openings in the tower, even if some of its feathers looked a bit worse for wear. Happy as a… lark, it settled on Ori’s shoulders, chirping up a storm.

“I think she’s trying to tell us something,” Ori said slowly, and the thrush nodded her little head up and down. “She wasn’t nearly this noisy before.” The thrush’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say it was a bad noisy,” Ori defended. “You’ve a very pleasing chirp.”  
  
“Damn, they’re half-way married already,” Nori lamented, grinning unrepentant when the bird turned her glare on him.  
  
“Does anyone understand what it’s saying?” Balin asked. “Bilbo?”  
  
“Balin, why would you think-?“ their Hobbit shook his head. “First the eggs-“ Kíli edged a little further still behind Dwalin. “-and now this? Have I begun growing feathers and no one told me?”

“I _will_ hear this egg story,” Thorin said, looking at Kíli, or where he would be if he hadn’t now completely disappeared behind Dwalin who looked amused about the entire thing.

Fíli tried to look innocent as his uncle’s gaze turned his way. Innocent in regards to ever having thought that Hobbits might lay eggs at least, (more might be pushing it). When Thorin’s gaze narrowed he amended his plan to casually hiding behind Bombur. There was just more of him to hide behind than Bofur.

The bird screeched in annoyance and flapped her wings, only settling again when Ori stroked her head with one finger.

“We don’t understand you,” he told her. “Perhaps… are there any ravens around who could carry your words to us?”

The bird paused, then nodded. For the next few moments they all looked at it.  
  
“You might want to go find one then,” Bilbo finally said, and the bird shot him a nasty look, cuddling closer to Ori’s neck. Thorin frowned at it. The bird that was, not Ori’s neck.  
  
“If you’ve got something important to tell us, we need to hear it,” Ori said apologetically.  The bird sighed, and it’s tiny shoulder’s slumped. But it didn’t protest when  Ori moved towards one of the window.

Nori clasped Ori’s shoulder as the bird flew away, but Ori elbowed him before he could say anything.  
  
“How is a raven going to fit through the windows?” Kíli asked, peeking out from behind Dwalin.  
  
-  
  
It wasn’t very long before a sharp thrill could be heard, and the beatings of wings larger than those belonging to a thrush.

Thorin’s hands tightened on the still sheathed Orcrist, to hold it steady as the raven landed on it where it was being held out through the narrow window.  
  
“We meet again, son of Thráin,” Roäc greeted. He tilted his head. “I hope your company are not fewer than when we met before.”  
  
“Might be more soon,” Nori snickered, looking at Ori has the thrush settled on top of the scribe’s head, cooing happily. “Looks like there’s nesting on the way. Or you'll just end up as that Wizard. Unless Dori starts bathing you again.”  
  
“Nori, I will find a way to through you out one of the windows,” Ori said darkly.  
  
“Would you please tell us what words the bird wishes to share with us?” Thorin asked with a sigh.  
  
“The Dragon is dead,” Roäc stated, and there was not a jaw in the tower that did not drop open (okay, there was one, the one belonging to the trush; who settled for looking smug).  
  
The Raven told them about how the beast had set its sights on Lake-town, and how the thrush had managed to carry their message to him about the missing scale, which had allowed the Bard, the descendant of Girion; lord of Dale, to fire an arrow that took the beast's life.  
  
“It probably helped that the Dragon landed in the water though," the raven mused. "Never did too well with water, these fire-drakes. However that was not the only help he had,” the bird added. “Our little friend here did her part.”  
  
“What did she do?” Ori asked, and they looked at the bird who had suddenly taken a turn for the bashful, hiding her head in Ori’s hair.  
  
The raven told them.  
  
Nori looked admiringly at the bird. “You took a crap at a Dragon?”

“This is not going into the histories,” Ori murmured, reaching up to stroke a finger over soft feathers.  
  
“I think it was very brave,” the raven said. “If she hadn’t risked her life by flying so close to the beast’s jaws, and then temporarily blinded him, it’s possible that the bowman would not have succeeded.”

“Hardly an epic ending to the tale though,” Ori protested, but his finger kept petting the bird.  
  
“It’s over then,” Thorin breathed, fingers tightening on the hilt of Orcrist until his knuckles whitened. “We have our home back.”  
  
Fíli realised that he had not even _seen_ the Dragon. It wasn’t really what he had expected, and a bit… anticlimactic. But oh well. He was hardly about to argue with the result.  
  
“What about Lake-town?” Bilbo asked, taking a step closer to the window, coming to stand next to Thorin. “Did Smaug… before Bard could…?”  
  
“It could have been worse,” the raven said slowly, and the colour drained from Bilbo’s face.  
  
“What does that mean?”  
  
“Though parts of the city were burnt, there were few deaths.”  
  
“Few?” Bilbo said faintly, and Thorin used his free hand to pull him close, glaring out at the raven.  
  
“I have more news to tell you,” the raven said gravely. “An Elven army is marching this way. And the Men of Lake-town now turn their eyes this way, towards the treasure. If you wish for allies, it might cost you.”

This news was not met with happy faces. 

“They would try and take what is _ours_?” Thorin growled, and the raven cawed warningly as its resting place was disturbed; Thorin’s agitation making him move the sword.

“The Master thinks that we owe him,” Kíli sighed. “And he’s not really wrong, he did provide for us, when we asked him.”  
  
“That is not for him to decide,” Thorin snarled, and Fíli nodded, seeing Bofur nod out of the corner of his eye. Erebor was _theirs_ again, at long last. And so was everything in it. Who did these Elves and Men think that they _were_?

As from a great distance Fíli heard Bilbo murmur: “Oh dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFFHANGER! On both my big WIP stories. MWAHAHA. :D
> 
> please don't kill meeeeeeeeeee.....
> 
> Also, my headcanon, and since I'm the author I hope this counts for something, is that Bombur started it with the obnoxiousness this time cause he could see that Fíli was making himself sad. Bombur _hates_ sad people.


	87. Dragon-Sickness - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We pick up about where we last left off...

“Will you just _listen_ to yourselves for a moment!” Bilbo shouted, interrupting the plans for how to best fortify the front gates as they were sure to have been broken by the Dragon as it exited the mountain. "You're being quite ridiculous!"  
  
Fíli nodded thoughtfully.  
  
“Yes, we should go down to the gates and see for ourselves. There’s little use in making plans before we know the true damage.” The blond straightened when Thorin gave him an approving nod.   
  
“Yes-“ Thorin began, but Bilbo stomped one foot and threw his hands up in agitation.   
  
“ _No_ , that’s not what I meant at all. You are talking as if you’re planning a _war_. And you don’t see the problem with that?”  
  
“It’s Dragon-sickness,” Kíli murmured from where he stood some distance away from them all, and Fíli frowned at him, seeing Dwalin do the same. Dwalin looked a bit more worried though. But that was probably just Kíli-related worry, because it wasn’t the Dragon-sickness at all. It was just sensible to be prepared. If the Elves had an army already marching their way, and Roäc thought that the Men entertained similar plans, what else could they do but prepare?  
  
“Or just regular stubbornness,” Bilbo gritted out, and Fíli’s frown deepened. It wasn’t that either.  
  
“You can't blame everything on Dragon-sickness,” the Hobbit added, looking at Kíli. “We're not even in the treasure chambers anymore. And apparently the Dragon is _dead_.”

The raven had long since flown away again, so Thorin had both his hands free to gently clasp Bilbo’s shoulders, and pull him into a lose embrace.  
  
“If you are frightened, there’s no need for it. The raven, or one of his kin, will take my message to Dáin, and he will bring an army of our own. You don’t-“  
  
“I’m not afraid!” Bilbo protested into Thorin’s coat. “I’m just having a sudden revelation of what Gandalf felt like when he declared that he was the only sensible person around.”  
  
“Hey,” Kíli protested and the bird chirped.  
  
“You’re in love with a _Dwarf_ ,” Bilbo pointedly told the bird, and it waved its wing in a rude gesture.  
  
“Bilbo, so are you,” Kíli said. “So am I. Of course, since I am one-“  
  
“And don’t I know it,” Bilbo muttered, not paying any attention to Kíli's ramblings. “But at least we’re not small enough to nestle on the head of said Dwarf’s _head_ ,” he added looking at the bird, which deliberately turned its back to him. Ori shuffled awkwardly on the spot.  
  
“Do you want there to be a war?” Bilbo asked, looking back up at Thorin. “Because that’s what you’ll end up with, if you continue to act like this; talking about _armies_.”  
  
“I do not wish for a war,” Thorin said stiffly, dropping his hands from Bilbo's shoulders and taking a step back. “None of us do. But I cannot let them take my people’s birth right just because they feel entitled to it.”  
  
“But-“ Bilbo protested.

“Bilbo,” Fíli tried. “If we just give them what they want, imagine what they will ask for next.”  
  
“So war is better?” Bilbo asked flatly. "And you don't even know what they want."  
  
“No.” Fíli sighed. “Of course not, but-“ He looked to Bofur. “Help?” Then his eyes landed on the little pin in the shape of a bird that he’d pinned to Bofur’s collar. As a reminder of the Dragon sickness. And now…  
  
“Are we sure it’s not Dragon-sickness after all?” Fíli asked, suddenly filled with a sense of unease. His question earned a relieved smile from Kíli, a frown from Bilbo, and disbelief from most of the others. The bird seemed to be sulking still.   
  
“Before we didn’t realise it was Dragon sickness either. Óin, what do you think?”  
  
“As Bilbo says, the Dragon is dead,” Glóin answered in his brother’s stead. “How could we be affected by it?”  
  
“Are we certain the dragon is dead?” Dori asked, which prompted a world of outrage from the bird.

“Okay, okay,” Nori said, holding his hands up as if that could ward off the annoyed chirping. “The Dragon is dead. Very dead. As dead as-”  
  
“We get it,” Dwalin growled. “It’s dead.”  
  
“You don’t _know_ that the Elves mean you harm,” Bilbo said. “What if-“  
  
“They want to come over for tea?” Bombur shook his head. “My dear burglar, no. No. No. And also, _no_.”  
  
“If the raven said that an army is coming, I don’t see how that would be good news for us,” Bofur said apologetically. “They didn’t come after us when we escaped, but they could have changed their mind. The army part certainly seems to point to that conclusion, much as I hate to admit it.”  
   
“It is _very_ unlikely that they have decided to aid us,” Thorin said grimly. “If there is an army of Elves marching in our direction, it is not going to be because they wish to offer us help.”  
  
Fíli winced when he noticed the expression on his uncle's face. It was not an expression that promised happy things.  
  
“And the Men only helped us because they wanted something out of it,” Kíli said with a morose sigh. “They’re hardly going to come here and congratulate us, and then go on their merry way again. I agree with that much. But I _still_ say that you’re not thinking clearly.”  
  
“What would you have us do then?” Glóin asked, crossing his arms over his chest, and Kíli snorted.  
  
“Well, if you could all start thinking clearly, that would be a great help.”  
  
“I don’t see why you think we’re not thinking clearly to begin with,” Nori pointed out. “It’s not like we’ve run off to go back and play with the gold again.”  
  
“How many of you took something from the treasure chambers?” Kíli asked, crossing his arms. “Something that wasn’t weapon or armour. I know Dwalin did.”  
  
There was some humming and hawing, and then – very grudgingly – jewels and other precious objects starting appearing out of pockets. A quite impressive amount really.  
  
“Now throw it out the window,” Kíli prompted, and outraged murmurs spread through the tower. “You can always collect it later. _Unless_ , there is some reason why you feel you can’t be separated from it? Some _reason_ why you’re not thinking clearly? And I-”  
  
“Oh,” Bilbo breathed, hand down his trouser pocket, and Fíli elbowed Bombur before a comment could be made. This was not the time.

“You as well, Bilbo?” Kíli asked, eyes widening in surprise. “You took something?”  
  
“Well, I didn’t meant to?”   
  
Fíli’s mouth dropped open in awe over what Bilbo pulled out from his trousers, and then he mentally elbowed himself for phrasing it like that.   
  
“I forgot about it until now,” Bilbo said apologetically as he held out the jewel; which shone brilliantly in the light coming through the windows. “It was digging into my spine, when I slept I mean. I kind of remember putting it into my pocket- but to be honest it’s more like a dream.”  
  
“The Arkenstone,” Thorin breathed, his hand hovering over Bilbo’s. Before he could take it though, Bilbo pulled his hand away.  
  
“Wait, the _Arkenstone_? The one you were looking for?” The glance Bilbo gave Thorin was more than a bit wary. “The thing you were willing to ignore the possible reappearance of a _Dragon_ for?”

“You didn’t know this was the Arkenstone?” Balin asked and Bilbo huffed in annoyance.  
  
“I didn’t even really look at it before putting it away. How could I have known?” He glanced down at it, and the Arkenstone glimmered enticingly between his small fingers. “It’s pretty though.”  
  
“Pretty he says,” Nori murmured faintly.   
  
“Give it to me,” Thorin ordered, and Bilbo shook his head.   
  
“You could have _died_ for this. If there-”  
  
“Which is why you should give it to me,” Thorin said, and he looked surprised when Bilbo took a step away from him. “Bilbo, the stone is mine.”

“So are a lot of other things still lying around the treasure chambers,” Bilbo pointed out, hiding the stone behind his back. “I don’t see you in any hurry to get them.”

“It’s the King’s Jewel,” Thorin said, jaw clenched.  
  
“This is not good,” Kíli murmured, and Fíli nodded in mute agreement.  
  
“What’s the harm in me keeping it for some time?” Bilbo argued. “It’s not like I’m going to decide to keep it forever. It’s much too big to put in a ring, and rings with stones get in the way of gardening anyway.”

“It’s _mine_ ,” Thorin said, and from the way Bilbo was biting his bottom lip Fíli was fairly sure that their burglar was refraining to point out how Thorin sounded like a grumpy toddler. Albeit a grumpy toddler with the ability to loom, which Thowin was currently doing.  
  
“You trusted me enough to crawl into a barrel,” Bilbo said quietly, looking up at Thorin. “You trusted me to go into Erebor. You trusted me already when the Trolls captured us. Why can’t you trust me now?”  
  
“Fine,” Thorin growled after a few moments of silence, and Fíli turned to look at Kíli as Bilbo carefully put the Arkenstone back into his pocket.  
  
“That was _it_?” Kíli whispered, and Fíli shrugged minutely.   
  
“Don’t bloody jinx it."  
  
"Just saying that it wasn't what I was expecting. _Okay_ ,” he added, in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “If we could go back to throwing things out the window? Those who can’t, I think you need to listen to me and Bilbo for a while longer. Just in case.”  
  
“The necklace is for you,” Dwalin said grouchily, the necklace in question hanging from his fingers, the emeralds in the pendant almost glowing as bright as the Arkenstone had. “I’m not throwing it out the damned window. It’d be impossible to find.”  
  
“Then you’ll just have to listen to me,” Kíli said sweetly, walking over to smile up at the warrior. “Like Thorin is going to listen to Bilbo, right, uncle?”  
  
The only reply he got was a sullen murmur, and Fíli winced, because what happened with not jinxing things, but Kíli did not let either of those things bring him down.  
  
“Right,” he nodded, curling his hand over Dwalin’s. “Or if you want, you could give it to me now.”  
  
Bombur started snickering. “Yeah, give it to him good.”  
  
At least they could still trust in Bombur’s ability to always be inappropriate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks innocent*


	88. Dragon-Sickness - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peeps! I'd like to share with you that I am doing the Hobbit Big Bang
> 
>  
> 
> [And you should too!](http://hobbitstory.livejournal.com/388.html)

They ended up with a lot of compromises. Bilbo kept the Arkenstone, even if Fíli could agree with Thorin that it felt a bit… wrong, for someone to literally carry the King’s Jewel around in their pocket like a spare coin or a pretty rock they found on the ground. But in a way, the latter was all it was to their Hobbit.  
  
A grand total of nothing ended up being thrown out the window, which mean that their de facto leaders were now Kíli and Bilbo, with Fíli and the bird as their second in commands since the bird hadn’t actually taken anything (but neither had it actually been present in the treasure chambers) and even though Fíli had found the pin Bofur wore, he’d given it to Bofur and not taken anything else with him.  
  
The bird seemed very smug about this; until Ori sneezed which caused the little thing to almost fly off his head and straight into a wall. Then it, or she, as Ori had taken to remind them of at any given opportunity, wavered between smug and cautiousness in the event of another sneeze.  
  
Thorin and Glóin were voted as the most suspicious, Thorin because he had admitted to have his pockets full of precious stones (much to Bombur’s delight as that gave him many opportunities to make rude jokes) and Glóin because he kept petting golden objects if left to his own devices for long enough. (Which also pleased Bombur, who referred to the petting as ‘stroking’ and ‘caressing’, 'fondling' and so on, and kept himself, and possibly others, very entertained.)  
  
Once all that had been sorted out, and an appropriate amount of time had been given to complain about the bird, the unfairness of everything, and why it just wasn’t reasonable to throw things out the windows, said windows were again magicked closed once more and the Company (plus bird) headed for the front gates.  
  
Everything else aside, there were also Orcs and other not so nice things that would love to take a stroll through Erebor, and that was something that everyone could agree should be avoided. (Though which beings belonged in the ‘not so nice things’-category was still up for debate.)  
  
“You are going to end up just like that Wizard,” Dori scolded Ori. “If I see you with bird excrement in your hair I’m giving you a bath. I don’t care how old you are.”  
  
“Doriii,” Ori whined. “I’m 72 years old. I can take my own baths.”  
  
“I believe I said that I don’t care. Age does not have an impact on if you’ll fit in a tub or not. And I’m sure I would be able to find one.”  
  
“That’s one drawback of this,” Bombur mused and patted at his belly. “Once I’m in a tub, there’s not much room left for water.”  
  
“When you say the same thing about a lake, that’s when you need to worry,” Nori said and slapped Bombur on the back.  
  
“Nah.” Bombur grinned and shrugged. “I hear the ocean is pretty big.”  
  
“Rather,” Balin said drily as he walked past them. “Though I think that the sailors and fish would prefer if you left them some room.”  
  
“I’ll do my best to be accommodating.”  
  
Suddenly Kíli stopped in the middle of the hallway. He didn’t stand still for very long though, because Bifur walked right into him and they both ended up sprawled on the floor, then Bofur tripped over Bifur’s leg and he joined them.  
  
Ori watched the three flailing Dwarfs with a gloomy expression on his face. “Being threatened with baths and now this. No, this isn’t like in the epic stories at all.”  
  
“Of course it isn’t!” Glóin huffed. “Those stories are larger than life, but life, life happens to be bird shit and baths sometimes. Fortunately that’s not all that there’s too it.”  
  
“Are you aware what your hand is doing?” Ori asked with deceptive mildness.  
  
Glóin, upon discovering that his hand was stroking the bracelet he was wearing on his other wrist, scowled. Snatching his hand away and shoving it down his pocket he grunted.  
  
“As I said, life isn’t all grand and perfect, lad.”  
  
“You don’t say,” Ori murmured, and his bird cooed down at him from her position on top of his head. “And I don’t understand what _you_ say,” Ori added with a sigh. “But thank you, I think.”  
  
“Anyone know what makes ravens able to speak?” Nori wondered. “I mean, they’ve got a beak, just as our little bird nesting on Ori here.”  
  
“She’s not nesting,” Ori protested and the bird affected an innocent expression, and tried to look like she’d not been subtly rearranging Ori’s hair wherever appropriate to suit her. Everyone ignored both of them.  
  
“Well, something about the tongue maybe?” Óin suggested. “We’ve got lips and they’ve got a beak, but we both have a tongue.”  
  
“I assume that Ori’s friend does to,” Bofur replied, as he finally managed to untangle himself from Bifur and Kíli. “So that can’t be all that there is to it.”  
  
“It’s not what you’ve got, it’s how you use it?” Bombur offered. Everyone ignored him too, even if they shouldn't have, because he might actually have been on to something.  
  
“Bilbo, Bilbo, wait,” Kíli called, scrambling back up on his feet again. “I just thought of something!”  
  
Bilbo stopped, turning around with a quizzical expression on his face. “Yes?”  
  
“Your ring!” Kíli jogged up to where Bilbo and Thorin were standing.  
  
“What about my ring?” Bilbo said warily, hand coming up to rest over his chest. Wait, his chest?  
  
“You’ve not got it in your pocket anymore?” Kíli asked, and Fíli silently thanked Mahal for the occasions where the two of them actually thought alike and _no_ Hobbit-eggs were involved. On occasions without Hobbit-eggs it was actually convenient.  
  
“I found a chain for it,” Bilbo explained. “It wasn’t really practical to have it in my pocket, and I’m glad I changed it before our escape from Mirkwood or I surely would have lost it in the river.”  
  
“Ah, so you stole a chain from the Elves?“ Nori grinned. “We’ll make a decent burglar out of you yet.”  
  
“ _Borrowed_ ,” Bilbo protested. “It was not like they were using it anyway. And some day I'll give it back.”  
  
“You’re wearing an _Elven_ chain?” Thorin growled, making the word 'Elven' sound as if it had the same meaning as a skunk that died three weeks ago and had somehow now crawled back out of the ground, covered in all sorts of nasties, and then a racoon wandered by and took a piss on it.  
  
“If I say no, will that make you happier?” Bilbo asked irritably. “You’ve _seen_ the chain. You didn’t protest then, why now?”  
  
“I didn’t know that it was Elven,” Thorin said darkly.  
  
“It appeared sometime after we’d left Beorn and before Lake-town. Did you think I got it from one of the Spiders?”  
  
“That would have been-“  
  
“If you say that it would have been better I will go and hide your precious stone somewhere where you’ll never find it,” Bilbo promised with narrowed eyes. “Those Spiders could have _eaten_ you. The Elves _fed_ you, there’s a huge difference there. And if-”  
  
“This _wasn’t_ what I wanted to talk about!” Kíli exclaimed, interrupting the pair before they could begin to argue for real.  
  
Fíli sighed. It was hardly the first time Thorin and Bilbo didn’t agree about something, he rather thought that they’d spent more time not really agreeing with each other than the other way around, but that didn’t mean that he’d suddenly begun to find pleasure in listening to it.  
  
As much as he hated to admit it, it would perhaps be better if they skipped the fighting and went straight to the making-up parts, even if the very idea of what that making-up would entail left deep wounds on his mind and spirit.  
  
“Bilbo. Your ring… you might also have the Dragon-sickness,” Kíli continued. “It’s gold after all.”

“What, no!” Bilbo protested, hand again coming up to press against his chest. “I don’t have the Dragon-sickness. I’m not even sure any of you do.”  
  
“Then may I please borrow your ring?” Kíli asked sweetly, holding his hand out.  
  
“No!”  
  
“Aha!” Kíli called, pointing at Bilbo. “See, you’re just as bad as the rest of them!”  
  
Mutters came from most of the Company and Kíli shrugged. “I’m just calling as I see it. And Glóin, you’re doing it again.”  
  
With a muttered curse Glóin stopped petting his bracelet. “I just want to give it to my wife, and not lose it on the way,” he mumbled sullenly.  
  
“Right,” Kíli nodded. “And the way your other hand is rubbing that ruby in your pocket? Coincidence. _Sure_." He turned back to their Hobbit. "Bilbo, why can’t you give me the ring? Just for a minute.”  
  
“Because this is stupid,” the Hobbit frowned. “It’s silly, it’s not the same thing at all. I had my ring long before we arrived here.”  
  
“But it’s _gold_ ,” Kíli pressed. “Óin, you called the Dragon-sickness gold-sickness before?”  
  
“Aye,” Óin agreed.  
  
“Aha!” Kíli called again and Bilbo crossed his arm over his chest.  
  
“I’m not giving you my ring.”  
  
“You didn’t want to give your ring to anyone even before you first entered the mountain,” Thorin said slowly. "You told me so when I said that someone else could do it. When we were talking on the mountainside."  
  
“I’m not seeing you giving your sword away to anyone,” Bilbo  argued. “The _Elven_ sword I might add.”  
  
Thorin scowled. “No Elf had touched it for a long time, it’s not-“  
  
“They don’t have cooties!”  
  
“Right,” Kíli said. “Okay then, Bilbo, you’re not allowed to decide anything either. You are now on the same level as Thorin and Glóin. If this started even before you saw the Dragon then it must be fairly serious. Perhaps it’s just because you’re a Hobbit that it’s concentrated on just one small thing.”  
  
Thorin looked smug for a moment before it sunk in that the only thing that had really happened was Kíli declaring Bilbo _as_ unstable as he had already declared Thorin. Not much of a victory.  
  
“It’s going to be so much fun if the Men and Elves do get here,” Kíli murmured and Fíli could only agree.  
  
-  
  
And the Elves and Men did indeed arrive. But not on that the same day. Between those two days there was still time for other things to come to pass.  
  
Amongst others; the attempted repairs of the front gates, which ended up as the blocking of the front gates as the Company realised that to properly fix them would take quite some time.  
  
Bilbo was not happy about this approach, but it wasn’t really like they’d locked themselves in the mountain.  
  
They could still go out onto the barricades (those doors they could shut just fine) and sit in the sun, look out on the landscape, and ignore the way the ravens gossiped about the approaching army of Elves. They weren’t locked up. They were just… being cautious. Really, Bilbo should be glad. He'd complained about them being rash on enough occasions before.  
  
After they’d made sure that no one could just march right into Erebor, the Company started exploring Erebor again, or for the first time.  
  
Kíli had somehow managed to find parchment somewhere, and then likely nagged Ori until he gave up his last ink, because on the door leading down to the treasure chambers there was now a note that simply stated: NO. NO. AND NO.

It was remarkably effective though, or maybe it was just the lure of Erebor that managed to steal everyone’s attention. Even Bilbo cheered up some after he’d found the library, even if he hadn’t appreciated that most of the books were written in Khuzdul. (Ori on the other hand had almost fainted from excitement.)  
  
Fíli hadn’t found a particular favourite yet. But he had time. There was so many amazing things to see, and Bofur enjoyed showing him them. Together they also enjoyed the newly found privacy, because even if they had all taken care to set up a basic rule system (No one goes anywhere alone, Always tell someone where you and the person who is keeping you from being alone is going, and Meet up in the Great Hall roughly every third hour) there was still plenty of time for a tumble or two. Or four.  
  
(It had been a long time since Lake-town. Or at least it felt that way.)  
  
Especially once Fíli had discovered where Kíli had gotten the parchment from and that Ori had some ink left.  If ‘NO’ had been a clear message to anyone thinking about going into the treasure chambers then ‘GO AWAY’ was also pretty clear that everyone should stay away from the room currently occupied by Fíli and Bofur.  
  
Fíli had wanted to just write ‘BUSY’ which Bofur had immediately vetoed, claiming Bombur’s jokes as his primary argument. Fíli couldn’t help but agree and admit his mistake.  
  
He rather thought that Bofur had appreciated his apology. HIs love had certainly sounded pleased enough, even when he’d stopped using words and just reverted to happy moaning.

Thorin and Bilbo seemed to have made up (again) and as such had stopped glaring at each other.   
  
It was clear that they still weren’t entirely back to normal though, and most of it seemed to come from Thorin finding it unfair that Bilbo was allowed to keep his ring, but he was not allowed to as much as look at the Arkenstone. Which of course ended up leading to another argument, an argument that ended with an incensed Bilbo pushing the jewel into Kíli’s hands, ordering him to: “Talk some sense into your uncle, I’m in dire need of a break.” Before storming off. Alone.  
  
“I’ll go with him,” Bofur offered, standing up from where he had been sitting next to Fíli and jogging off after their burglar.  
  
It had just been the five of them who had been gathered in the Great Hall. The others had all gone off to do a bit of reminiscing and exploring, or in Ori’s case, more reading.  
  
Their scribe had claimed that the bird counted as company and had then promptly shut himself in the library, only coming out at mealtimes. Fíli rather believed that had he not been afraid of getting crumbs on his books, he would also have eaten his cram in there. (On a side note, cram, ugh....)

“If you give me the stone,” Thorin said to Kíli. “I will prove to Bilbo that I’m not obsessed with it.”  
  
“Think about what you just said,” Kíli said slowly. “Doesn’t it sound a little… mutually exclusive for you to demand the thing that you’re not supposed to want that badly?”  
  
“I’m not supposed how I’m supposed to prove anything if I’m hardly allowed to look at it,” Thorin growled. “That is like telling me that I’m incapable of walking, while at the same time forcing me to remain bedridden.”

“What if you can’t actually walk, and we know it, but you don’t?” Kíli tried. “And trying could mean that something bad happened.”  
  
Thorin’s frown was now only a slightly more cheerful version of what he would have looked like if he had been called an Elf.  
  
“I am your uncle and King both, are you telling me that you find me so incompetent that I no longer know my own mind?”  
  
Fíli very gracefully did not point out that sometimes Thorin didn't know his own mind, like how he was in love with their burglar, and then ignored – no practically _repressed_ it -  for several long months as he thought it wasn't requited. (If Fíli had reflected further upon that behaviour he might have realised that it was something of a family trait. After all, Fíli hadn’t admitted to himself that he was in love with Bofur right at the start either.)  
  
Sucking in a huge breath Thorin then let it out again, very slowly. “If you give me the stone,” he said slowly. “I’ll give it to Bilbo when he gets back. You have my word. And after that, we can perhaps stop it with this foolishness.”  
  
Kíli looked hesitantly towards Fíli, who, equally hesitant, ended up nodding.  
  
“Fine,” Kíli said as he handed Thorin the stone. “It’ll be like another version of throwing things out the tower window. Perhaps it'll go better this time.”  
  
Fíli wasn't so sure. Something about the look in Thorin’s eyes as he looked at the Arkenstone made something unpleasant squirm in Fíli’s stomach, as if he’d eaten a worm. And judging by the look on Bilbo’s face when he and Bofur returned and he saw Thorin with the stone, he rather agreed.  
  
“Clearly I should have talked some sense into you first,” he muttered to Kíli who shrugged apologetically.  
  
“Bilbo,” Thorin said seriously.  
  
“Thorin,” Bilbo said, crossing his arms.  
  
“I’d like to give the Arkenstone back to you, for safekeeping.”  
  
“Really?” Bilbo asked, the tense line of his shoulders relaxing slightly and his eyes widening in surprise.  
  
“Indeed,” Thorin said, walking to stand right in front of his Hobbit. Bilbo stretched out a hand, palm up and Thorin slowly placed the Arkenstone in it.  
  
“That went better than I expected,” Kíli whispered to Fíli who smacked the back of his brother’s head.  
  
“Stop jinxing it.”  
  
“You’ve not actually let it go,” Bilbo pointed out after a few moments of both of them holding the stone and Thorin sighed.  
  
“No, it appears I have not.” And he still didn’t let go.  
  
“I told you so,” Fíli said darkly to Kíli who only sighed.  
  
Bilbo sighed as well and then quickly snatched the stone away from Thorin, who reflexively stretched out a hand for it.  
  
“Does that count as half of a win?” Kíli asked. “He did offer it to you.”  
  
“Kíli, if I offer you the moon, is that the same thing as giving it to you?” Bilbo asked, as he shoved the stone down his coat pocket once more. “No, it is not.” The Hobbit then turned back to Thorin. “Just, can you promise me one thing?”  
  
Thorin faltered for a moment, and for a moment more he actually looked doubtful, but then he nodded.  
  
“Just, if there is an Elven army coming this way, or a Mannish one, hear them out before you start shouting at them?”  

Thorin nodded again. Very grudgingly. But there was definitely up and down movement.

“Thank you,” Bilbo  said tiredly. “Now I’m going to join Ori in the library. I’ll see you later.”  
  
“Well, it could have gone worse?” Bofur said, and Fíli winced. Would people never stop challenging fate like that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still amazed that this story keeps getting kudos, and that anyone is still reading for that matter. And of course every bookmark, subscription and comment is a constant source of food for my writer's ego, so on behalf of that ego (who is called Ernie, which comes from a SGA fic, and if anyone can guess which one you are awesome) I'd like to thank you all!
> 
> Um, and one thing more. There will be a part 3 to the Dragon-sickness bit byenowgottagoooo *runs away*


	89. Dragon-Sickness - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We continue shortly after where we last left off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does having a three-part chapter count as doing a trilogy within a series?

“I’m sorry,” Fíli murmured to Bofur that night.  
  
“Whatever for?” Bofur asked sleepily, rolling over so that he was facing Fíli instead of lying with his back pressed against the blond Dwarf’s front.   
  
It had taken some searching, but they’d finally found a fairly large supply of woollen blankets that hadn’t rotted or been ravaged too badly by moths. They smelled like what they were; old and dusty wool that had not been washed for the better part (or worse part) of two centuries, but they were soft. And by this point in their quest, they’d all smelled worse things. They’d smelled worse themselves.  
  
“We were meant to marry once we got to Erebor,” Fíli said softly, taking Bofur’s hand and twining their fingers together. “But so far we remain unwedded.”  
  
“Well, Thorin has been… busy,” Bofur said diplomatically. “So’ve we. We can talk to him in the morning?”  
  
“I hadn’t forgotten it,” Fíli promised. “I just- when we finally had time to ourselves, I also remembered how long it was since I had chance to do more than kiss you.” He licked his lips and added in a lower tone of voice. “Lake-town felt like such a long time ago. And I just-“  
  
“Love, I’m not upset,” Bofur said. “I could have said something too.”  
   
“There’s nothing I want more than to share the rest of my life with you. I’d not trade it for all the gold in Erebor.”  
  
“How about for some food that’s not cram?” Bofur chuckled when Fíli gave him an exasperated look. “Just teasing. You know I feel the same.”  
  
“I might be possible to talk into trading you _both_ for some real food,” Bombur informed them from where he was lying across the room. “If there really are Elves and Men coming I might abandon you all if they promise me a proper dinner.”  
  
“That is not funny,” Thorin rumbled from his and Bilbo’s corner.  
  
“Is _anyone_ actually asleep?” Kíli wondered, and low murmurs seemed to indicate that, no, indeed not.  
  
“Well, I was,” Glóin complained. “I think Óin still is. Or he’s started snoring whilst still being awake.” There was no reply from Óin, so he probably was sleeping still. The benefits of his bad hearing no doubt.  
  
“Uncle?” Fíli asked, sitting up. “Did you hear what Bofur and I was discussing just now then?”  
  
“Not really,” Thorin said. “I didn’t pay much attention until Bombur declared himself a _traitor_.”  
  
“It was a joke.” Bilbo fought his way up from beneath the blankets Thorin had piled on them. “He was just joking, there’s no need to get in a snit about it.”  
  
“A _snit_?” Thorin sounded outraged. “I do not get into ‘snits’.”  
  
“So when you wouldn’t get the Arkenstone before, that wasn’t a snit?”  
  
“For the record, I am _really_ tired of cram,” Bombur interjected.   
  
“Can everyone shut up and go to sleep?” Dwalin growled. “Fighting, arguing and so on can bloody well wait until morning.”  
  
“We’ll talk to him in the morning,” Bofur whispered, pulling on Fíli’s shoulder to get him to lie down again.  
  
“Thorin hasn’t taken the Arkenstone,” Fíli murmured back. “He could have done so, but didn’t, that’s good, isn’t it?”  
  
“I hope so.”  
  
-  
  
Despite their plan, they didn’t really get a good opportunity to talk to Thorin the next morning. Shortly after dawn - not that they could see the sun from the chamber they’d spent the night in, but dawn even so - Thorin shook Fíli awake.  
   
"The raven came with news, wake the others. Bring them to the battlements."  
  
“Good morning to you too,” Fíli mumbled and rubbed at his eyes. Thorin was already moving towards the door, undoubtedly towards the battlements and the front gates, where a raven was likely waiting. But... how did Thorin know that? Had he been waiting for it? Did that mean it was Dáin who had sent them news. But how would Thorin know _that_?  
  
Regardless, he would only find out if he actually got up so with a sigh Fíli stroked his hand down Bofur’s back, and then shook him slightly.  
  
“Time to wake up.”  
  
“I think you’ll find that it’s most definitely not,” Bofur murmured. “Too early by half.”

“Thorin wants us to get up.”  
  
“Well then.”

Bofur still didn't move.  
  
Fíli snorted.” Get up, I’ll wake the others.”  
  
The others greeted the new day with about as much enthusiasm as Bofur had, but when he came to Bilbo he found that the Hobbit was already awake. Lying on his back and looking up at the dark ceiling.  
  
“Their moaning woke you?” Fíli asked, crouching down beside Bilbo.  
  
“No, I was already awake.”  
  
“Everything alright?” Bilbo sounded, well, not like he usually did. But perhaps he was just tired. “Did you sleep?”  
  
“Some.”  
  
“Any particular reason? I would think you ought to be used to the snoring by now.”  
  
With a sigh Bilbo sat up, one blanket still hanging over his shoulders. “All of you have spent most of the night muttering about gold. And Thorin…”  
  
“What did he do?” Fíli prompted when Bilbo wouldn’t go on. “He didn’t…” Fíli hesitated. “Do you still have the Arkenstone?” He couldn’t picture Thorin trying to take it by force, but…  
  
“I do, but…” This time Bilbo’s sigh was much deeper and sadder. “I woke up, and Thorin’s hand was pressed to the stone, or well, against the fabric of the pocket I have it in. Then he got up, and he didn’t come back to bed. I didn’t know if going after him would help or just make things worse.”  
  
“Oh,” Fíli said, biting down on his bottom lip. 

“There might be some truth to the Dragon-sickness after all,” Bilbo said slowly. “Or you’re all just going mad. Or I am.”  
  
“If it’s a sickness, then it’ll pass,” Fíli promised, even though he wasn’t entirely sure. “Just like your cold did. And Kíli doesn’t seem to be affected at all.” A thought occurred to the blond Dwarf. “Or was he also talking in his sleep?”  
  
“Only about Dwalin’s beard.” Bilbo smiled wryly. “Did you know that he _really_ likes it?”  
  
“And it’s not even golden.” Fíli got to his feet and held out a hand to help Bilbo get up as well. “Take that as a good sign.”  
  
“I’m not sure I trust good signs anymore,” Bilbo murmured as he let Fíli pull him to his feet.   
  
“Now Mister Baggins,” Fíli scolded. “Things are hardly as bad as that. We’re all together. The Dragon is dead. And Erebor is reclaimed.” Then Fíli winced. What he’d just said was pretty much the same thing as stating that things could be worse. Never _ever_ say that things could be worse.  
  
-  
  
“In a few hours the Elven army will arrive, as will the Men,” the raven Roäc declared.   
  
The raven was sitting on the edge of the battlements, and the Company (and thrush) was gathered around him.  
    
“You build character through adversity,” Glóin murmured. “That’s what Da’ always used to say.  
  
“Or perversity,” Bombur murmured.   
  
“Shut it.”

“Tell them the rest,” Thorin demanded.  
  
“The Elves are led by Thranduil-King, and the Men by Bard, descendant from the once Lord of Dale, Girion. Now called Bard the Bowman for being the one to fell the great beast.”  
  
“Bard’s also that fellow who you were in meetings with?” Nori questioned and Thorin nodded grimly.  
  
“He is not the ruler of their people, but apparently he holds some sway. Even before ending the wyrm. And he did not agree with their Master that our return to Erebor would be a cause for celebration.”  
  
“Well, he wasn’t really wrong,” Bilbo murmured. “Smaug did try and burn their homes down. And I was the one who woke him. It's my fault.”

“It's not your fault,” Thorin growled. “You did as we asked you, as _I_ asked you, even though we should never have asked in the first place. And the Dragon would have woken eventually, regardless of what we did or did not do.”  
  
“Still,” Balin said cautiously. “I can understand why the Men might think to march here. But the Elves? Surely that is not good news either.”  
  
“How many of them?” Dwalin asked, and the raven tilted his head as he thought back to what he’d seen.  
  
“Perhaps a thousand.”  
  
“Clearly not coming for a friendly visit then,” Nori murmured.  
  
“We will deal with them when they arrive,” Thorin said confidently, and Bilbo huffed.  
  
“Remember what you promised about listening first and shouting later, if at all?”  
  
“I will hear what they have to say.” Thorin’s hand twitched as if he’d been about to reach out for their Hobbit. Or, perhaps for what he carried, Fíli thought with a fair amount of dread, but in the end his uncle’s arms remained at his sides. “However I do not expect to like it. And now we have work to do, to prepare.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Fíli murmured to Bofur as they started the trek inside again. “I don’t think this is the right moment to talk to Thorin.”  
  
“Agreed,” Bofur sighed. “A thousand Elves, Mahal’s beard, that’s going to be a fun thing. Or not.”  
  
“I’m not sure what they could want though?” Fíli frowned. “Even if they’re upset that we escaped from their prison, why now? And why so many?”  
  
“We’ll find out.”  
  
“I imagine so.”  
  
-  
  
It was not even noon when the two… Fíli hesitated to call them armies as that did not bode well… arrived.   
  
The Company had walked down to a lower part of the battlements, to be able to speak to their… visitors, and they now stood just above the front gates, which they thankfully had managed to shut and barricade already the previous day.   
  
Bilbo could be as upset as he wanted about how they essentially had shut themselves in the mountain, but Fíli was very comforted by the knowledge that the Elves and Men simply could not walk inside as they pleased.   
  
Smaug hadn’t damaged the locking mechanism of the gates, so despite that they were a little worse for wear, it would take an army even twice the size of the Elven one quite some time to break them down. The gates had been built to last.  
  
To Thorin’s credit he did listen to what the Elves and Men had to say, even when they clearly started to spout nonsense.   
  
Fíli grabbed Óin’s arm to get the old Dwarf’s attention.  
  
“Can it be that the Men and Elves are also cursed by the Dragon-sickness?” Fíli hissed directly into his ear. “I can’t believe the demands that they’re making.”  
  
“Or can’t we believe them because we’ve got the sickness ourselves?” Óin murmured. “This back and forth gives me a headache, that much I do know.”  
  
“But they’re asking for part of Erebor’s treasure! The Men I could understand, but the Elves? They’re supposed to care about trees and I don’t know, more trees! Not about gold.”  
  
“Tell that to them.” Óin looked over his shoulder and Fíli followed his gaze to Thorin, a very grim-looking Thorin. “Or to your uncle, might give him some perspective on the matter.”  
  
“To be honest I can’t believe that he’s not started shouting at them. _I_ feel like shouting at them.”

Thorin’s tactic seemed to be to say nothing at all, and after quite some time of that, the Elves and the Men retreated from the gates, promising to return on the morrow for further ‘discussions’.

They’d no sooner begun to set up camps by the river when Thorin’s calm entirely ran out. Fíli had never heard such inventive curses before. They were all in Khuzdul, but from the look on Bilbo’s face he got the gist of it as well.  
  
“What are we going to do?” Balin asked when Thorin finally had to draw breath.  
  
“We’re not going to give them anything,” Thorin growled. “Nothing. Dáin will be here soon. And if it’s war that they want, then we will grant it.”  
  
“No!” Bilbo protested. “You can’t start a war over gold.”  
  
“I won’t be starting it,” Thorin said darkly. “But I’ll be sure to end it.”  
  
Bilbo looked around, and when his gaze fell on Fíli the blond Dwarf shrugged helplessly.  
  
“Bilbo, they can’t just make that kind of demands. Or, we can’t give in to them.”  
  
“Then talk with them, make them see reason then, if you are so sure that you are right.”  
  
“Of course we are right,” Thorin said, hitting his fist against the solid rock that made up Erebor’s walls. “This is our home. And if they think that I would grant them even the tiniest of pebbles…”  
  
“What if I give them mine. One 14th of the treasure is mine.”   
  
Thorin fell silent, and Fíli’s jaw fell open.

“Bilbo,” Bofur breathed. “You can't do that.”

“Why not?” Bilbo folded his arms over his chest. “Part of the treasure is mine. And if giving it away stops a war I will do it gladly. It’s not like I had use for it anyway.”

“You are to be my husband,” Thorin snarled. “I forbid this.”  
  
“Forbid?” Bilbo echoed. “You can't for-“  
   
“I can and will.”

“There are many things that you do not control, Thorin Oakenshield,” Bilbo said, straightening his shoulder and holding his head up high. “And I am one of them.”  
  
“So you think that I could not stop you if you tried to go to them with your offer?”  
  
Everyone flinched when Kíli let out a sharp whistle, the bird on Ori's head put her wings over her head. “Can we all take a deep breath?”  
  
“We cannot give in to their demands,” Thorin gritted out, not taking his eyes off Bilbo. “If you are to offer them your part of the treasure, it would be the same thing as if I had offered. Would you shame me so?”  
  
“ _Shame_?! Stopping a war is shameful? Thorin, there’s 14 of us, and how many of them? How can you even think-”  
  
“Dáin is coming.”  
  
“To his _death_ it would seem, if you have anything to say about it.”  
  
“One Dwarf is worth more than a dozen Elves, and Dáin-”  
  
“And how much is a _dead_ Dwarf worth?”  
  
“Seriously,” Kíli said. “Calm down. I don’t even care if this is the Dragon-sickness or not, but-“  
  
“Shut up,” Thorin and Bilbo told him, not looking away from each other.  
  
“What are you afraid to lose?” Bilbo asked softly. “Your gold, or your pride? It seems to be that you’ve got enough of both to spare.”  
  
“They have not helped us-“  
  
“The Men did.”  
  
This made Thorin pause. “They did. And I am _not_ unreasonable, I would see that they were compensated. But what they’re asking for his far from reasonable. And the _Elves_ -“  
  
“Are the ones with an actually army!”   
  
“Dáin-“  
  
“Is not here!”  
  
“This really isn’t good,” Kíli said under his breath and Fíli could only nod dumbly. They both inhaled sharply when Bilbo pulled the Arkenstone from his pocket. The stone shone just as brilliant as it had down in the guard tower, holding all the colours of the rainbow and then some.

“I could throw your precious Arkenstone down to them-“  
  
“You would not _dare_ ,” Thorin growled.

“I would,” Bilbo said quietly. “If it meant stopping a war. Because you would trade the gold for it, wouldn’t you? I don’t know if it’d survive the fall, but it seems hard enough. Almost as hard as the head of certain Dwarfs.”  
  
“If you give it to them, you might as well follow it.”  
  
Bilbo flinched at this, as did Kíli, but Thorin did not back down. Fíli just didn’t know what to do. He’d not felt this helpless even when the Trolls had captured them, or when the Orcs had hunted them. Thorin was his uncle, and his king, and Fíli even agreed with him, in a way. They couldn’t just give away the treasure, but…

“You made me promise that I should never doubt that you love me,” Bilbo said shakily. “But right now that’s not an easy thing to do.” When Thorin said nothing Bilbo licked his lips. “I see.”  
  
“It _is_ the Dragon-sickness,” Fíli murmured.  “It has to be.”

“Uncle would never hurt Bilbo like this,” Kíli agreed. “He didn’t want Bilbo to even come with us to Erebor. He wanted him to be safe even if it would have meant that we'd fail.”

“What to break it with?”  
  
“Give me the stone,” Thorin prompted. “And all of this will be forgotten.”  
  
“I think not.” Bilbo’s face was pale but his head was still held high. “I’ll not let you just kill yourself, and that’s what you’re about to-“  
  
“Thorin, Bilbo is _pregnant_!”

Fíli had never understood the expression a deafening silence. How could a silence, a _lack_ of sound, ever deafen anyone? Now though, he was starting to understand, because the massive, all compassing silence that had spread after Kíli’s words felt a lot like being deaf.   
   
He only regained the ability to think when Kíli grabbed his arm and shook him.  
  
“Thorin said it was a sickness of the _mind_ ,” Kíli hissed into his ear.  
   
“So you thought that adding _more_ insanity would do the trick?” Fíli hissed back.   
   
“It can hardly make it worse! And whereas a kiss worked last time this seemed more dire, and I didn’t want clothes start to disappear. He needs to remember -“

“Pregnant? How?” Thorin asked, eyes wide in shock, and to Fíli’s own surprise: completely void of the rage that had filled them just a moment ago.

Everyone awkwardly cleared their throat and looked to Óin, except for Bombur who just shook his head.  
  
“Well,” their healer said. “You’ve had… relations I assume. Congratulations? Hobbit's must be-”  
  
“Pregnant?” Bilbo echoed. “Kíli, I’m not-“  
  
“I know you told me that I shouldn’t say anything,” Kíli hastily said. “But…”  
  
“What? I’m _not_ pregnant.”  
  
Huffing Kíli marched over to where Bilbo was standing and whispered something into his ear.  
  
“ _Parasites?!_ ”

“No, like the time _with_ the-“ Kíli glanced towards Thorin, who still looked like someone had clobbered him over the head with an axe. “Never mind.”  
  
“Pregnant?” Thorin repeated.  
  
“You’ve broken him,” Bilbo stated.  
  
“Or I’ve _fixed_ him,” Kíli hissed.

“But I’m not with child! That’s impossible!”  
  
“Are you sure?” Glóin asked. “Sometimes the mother doesn’t now-“ During other circumstances it would have been funny to see him cower from just one look from their little burglar, but as it were… Okay, it was still rather funny.  
  
“I. Am Not. With Child.” Bilbo said from between clenched teeth. “It is not _possible_ for me to be a ‘mother’.”  
  
“You’re not with child?” Thorin asked, looking fairly crestfallen. Enough that Bilbo’s frown softened slightly.  
  
“No, I’m not,” he said gently. “Your nephew has just lost his mind. _Again_ I might add.”  
  
“Oh,” Thorin’s shoulder’s slumped. “I thought-“  
  
“If you say something about eggs, so help me I _will_ throw _myself_ off this wall,” Bilbo muttered.  
  
“No!” Thorin protested. Then he paused. “Eggs?”  
  
“I said I would tell you later,” Kíli muttered.  
  
“Are you sure?” Bilbo asked. “About me and the wall I mean? You seemed awfully eager to see me gone before Kíli-“  
  
“It was a great idea,” Kíli muttered. “Obviously.”  
  
“I-“ Thorin hesitated. “I don’t want you to leave. I never meant-“  
  
“Oh, it certainly felt like you meant it,” Bilbo protested. He’d tucked the Arkenstone away during the chaos after Kíli’s declaration, and now the Hobbit wrapped both his arms around his chest, shoulder’s hunching. “If you love me, if you wish to marry me, how can you just ignore my council? Is that how it’d be whenever I say something you don’t agree with? You’d threaten to banish me. Or- or worse.”  
  
“No, of course not!” Thorin protested. He took a step toward Bilbo, freezing when the Hobbit flinched back slightly. “Bilbo?”  
  
“It did sound like you wanted to throw _him_ off the battlements,” Dwalin said coolly, arm wrapped around the shoulders of a sulking Kíli. “Not that we’d let you, but-“  
  
“That’s not- I didn’t-“  
  
A horse crow made them all look up, but instead of an actual crow it was Roäc that had returned.  
  
“Greetings again, Dwarfs of Erebor. I bring you more news. Two more armies are marching in your direction. One is the one you sent for. Dwarfs from the Iron Hills”  
  
“Dáin,” Thorin said with a nod. “But what of the other? More _Elves_?”   
  
However when Bilbo took another step from him the dark frown on the King’s face instantly melted away. “Bilbo, I-“  
  
“ _Orcs_ ,” Roäc said gravely. “More than we could count. And Wargs besides. And some of my children thought they spotted Goblins as well.”  
  
“Orcs?” Dori breathed. “Oh dear.”  
  
“Suddenly Elves do not seem so bad,” Glóin murmured.  
  
Thorin did neither agree or disagree, but his mouth thinned to a small line. However his eyes did not leave Bilbo, nor did the almost apprehensive expression leave _them_.

“Looks like there’ll be a war,” Bilbo murmured. “I guess you’re pleased.”  
  
Fíli looked around at the rest of the Company. No, pleased was far from the right word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now headed towards the battle. Thank you for the lovely comments on how gold-sickness has actually been possible to do in a funny way, and keep your fingers crossed I can keep it up. (Erm, I hope I have kept it up in this chapter as well)
> 
> And remember: [Big Bang](http://hobbitstory.livejournal.com/)


	90. Diplomacy, Politics and Other Horrible Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein we see some of the results of Thorin’s brain being forced to reboot after Kíli’s (brilliant) distraction, and wherein Bilbo gets a lesson on what’s fun, fair and the politically correct thing to do (not necessary the same thing as the first two).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your eyes are not deceiving you, it _is_ another update.

After Roäc had revealed that Dáin would not arrive for another two days and that the Orcs were further away still the raven had flown to share his message with the Men and Elves. Most of the Company moved away from the battlements fairly quickly after that (many of the Elves had bows, and while Fíli hoped that none of them would want to use it, he would not bet his life on it), but Bilbo lingered. So Thorin lingered as well. And in his uncle’s eyes Fíli could see the struggle of wanting to just stuff the Hobbit beneath one arm and carry him to safety, and knowing that Bilbo would not appreciate it.  
  
“I’ll get him inside,” Fíli murmured, touching his hand to Thorin’s arm. “Don’t worry.”  
  
“Did you not hear the raven,” Thorin muttered darkly. “The days ahead will be filled with nothing but worry.”  
  
“Then worry about that then, and I will bring our Hobbit inside.”

Thorin hesitated. “He doesn’t like being carried."  
  
“Then I'll drag him." Fíli sighed at Thorin’s annoyed expression. “I’ll get him inside,” he repeated. “I promise. And without any carrying and dragging. Unless I absolutely have to.”  
  
“I should talk to him.”  
  
“Uncle, let me talk to him first.” Fíli bit his lip. “And maybe... take this opportunity to prepare what you are going to say?”  
  
Thorin made a sound half between a snort and a sigh. “Don’t think I don’t know what you mean by that. Go. Get him away from the edge of the wall. He might have the mithril shirt I gave him, but I don’t trust the Elves.”  
  
Fíli just barely refrained from expressing his total and complete lack of surprise with that statement. It was not the time. And it looked like that time would be yet some more time in coming because now they would have to _ally_ themselves with the Elves, wouldn't they? Joy.  
  
“Bilbo, would you please join us inside?” Fíli asked, stopping just a short distance away from their Hobbit. He would have placed a hand on Bilbo’s arm, much as he had done with Thorin, but Bilbo practically radiated how he didn’t want to be touched. His shoulders were striving to meet with his ears and his arms were wrapped around himself  as if he cold. Which perhaps he was, it wasn’t particularly cosy on the battlements after all, and winter would begin to move in on them more and more during the coming days and weeks. Again, joy.  
  
“I’ve had quite enough of the inside of this mountain for a while, thank you very much,” Bilbo said stiffly.  
  
“I could follow you to the guard tower,” Fíli offered. If he remembered the way… but Bofur could show him. “See those Elves down there? I’m quite sure that they didn’t bring those bows because they knew that an army of Orcs are coming. And from down there, you’ll look the same as us.”  
  
Bilbo’s eyes grew large. “You’re not suggesting that they’ll shoot us?”  
  
“Did you not hear what they were saying?”  
  
“I did! And the words ‘or we will kill you’ never entered into it.”  
  
“No they just suggested that they’d wait until we starved to death. And they only brought bows in case… I don’t know, why do Kíli carry his bow around. Oh, to _shoot_ things.”    
  
“It’s possible that they didn’t know that the Dragon was dead,” Bilbo protested.  
  
“So they decided to come and help? But upon realising that the Dragon was in fact dead they just decided that while they’re here, they might as well take some gold with them before they leave?” Fíli bit his lip. “Bilbo, I’m not saying that uncle wasn’t-“ oh to Mordor with diplomacy, “-being an arse, and even if it was the Dragon-sickness that doesn’t excuse it, but he’s not all wrong either.”  
  
Bilbo stiffened, and his eyes narrowed.  
  
“Even Bofur protested when you said you’d give them the treasure,” Fíli said quietly, and for a moment Bilbo looked uncertain, then the annoyance was back.  
  
“I still do not see why there would be shame in stopping a _war_.”  
  
“One person does not start a war, and if you think that they would be as eager for war as you think Thorin is, could we please move away from the edge and out of their line of sight?” Fíli asked, making his best impression of his brother’s pleading expression.  
  
“Thorin was the one who said that he wanted a war,” Bilbo muttered.  
  
“He didn’t, but I can see why you heard that.” Fíli sighed. “Regardless, Thorin was not the one who brought an army to Erebor’s gates and started making demands.” He gently placed his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder and gave the Hobbit a slight tug in the direction of the the staircase leading down to the lovely hallways where no one would shoot them.  
  
“Please? I promise we can go to the guard tower if you wish.” Which was conveniently high up, and even the best of the Elven archers would have trouble hitting the narrow windows as the wind would not do them any favours.  
  
“Fine,” Bilbo agreed, if very grudgingly, but he started walking towards the stairs, and that was good enough for Fíli who quickly followed.  
  
The Hobbit paused on the very first step. “Do you really think that they’d try and shoot us?”

“What’s the difference between starving someone to death and shooting them?” Fíli shrugged. “The way I see it, not much. Except for the time it would take. And there’s not a lot to eat on the slopes of the mountain either.”

“I- I see,” Bilbo said unhappily and he began to walk down the staircase, and Fíli hoped that he did, but doubted it.  
  
“Bilbo, before we join the others, can I just ask you to think about something?”  
  
“If your brother had asked that same question he would have gotten a resounding ‘no’ as my reply.”  
  
“I’m taking that as a yes then,” Fíli said with a small smile. “When the Trolls captured you, Thorin was willing to give all our lives for yours and the chance that we all might somehow get away safely.”  
  
“Not the best decision of his life,” Bilbo muttered.  
  
“Not from a tactical standpoint, no,” Fíli agreed. “But he did it nevertheless, and he would have done the same for either one of us. Because some sacrifices are not worth it. There are prices too high to pay. If Thorin had given the Men and Elves all they asked for now, what would happen the next time they remembered that we had something that they wanted, and no army to defend it with?”  
  
“You’re assuming that there would _be_ a next time.”  
  
“I think I can be forgiven for making the assumption that outrageous demands is something to expect,” Fíli said with a look over his shoulder. “What they asked for would rebuild Lake-town and Dale and twenty more cities like them. They didn’t asked out of need, but greed. And greed wants more.”  
  
He thought about pointing out that just the mithril of Bilbo’s mail would be enough to pay for all the damage Smaug could possibly have wrought on the Mannish town, but decided not to. If Bilbo offered to give that away as well… best not to invite the opportunity.

“Even if I would agree with what you’re saying, and I'm not saying that I am, because golds and gems are never worth a life, I am still furious with Thorin,” Bilbo said warningly.  
  
“You can compare notes with Dwalin then,” Fíli said, one corner of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. “From the look on his face as he left, he’s letting uncle know just what he thinks about certain things that were said.  Most of them pertaining to you I would think.”

“Dwalin? But-“ Bilbo paused. “I guess he did offer to carry Thorin out of the treasure chambers for me.”  
  
“He likes you,” Fíli promised. “Respects you even. And if it weren’t for him I expect you’d have heard a whole lot more about yourself being pregnant from Kíli.”  
  
“I’m really going to need to have a talk with your brother, aren’t I?”  
  
“I hope you’ll have a talk with my uncle first,” Fíli said solemnly. And he hoped it would truly be a talk, and not a new shouting match.

-  
  
When they joined the others it seemed however that _Dwalin_ wanted to have a talk with _everyone_ first. Or maybe it was just with Thorin and Bilbo, only when Nori and Ori tried to sneak away, Dwalin glared at them. And when the bird made rude noises at him, he glared at it too.

"Everyone is staying until we at least begin to sort this out, because everyone could stand to hear this," Dwalin growled. "Right," he added, looking between Thorin and Bilbo. "Let me help you two along. He-“ Dwalin pointed his thumb at Thorin and nodded at Bilbo. “-is very sorry that his mouth and brain don’t always work together, and he did not intend for it to sound like he’d haul you off the battlements.”  
  
Thorin certainly looked pained about that subject. “Bilbo I didn’t-“  
  
“Quiet,” Dwalin ordered. “Didn’t we agree that your mouth should shut up for a while?”  
  
The look Dwalin received made Fíli wince, but Thorin did close his mouth again. Apparently there were great advantages to being amongst Thorin’s closest friends, if not _the_ closest.  
  
“I'll leave the rest to him, because he could damn well use the practice when it comes to apologizing." This statement was met with a sour expression, but when Thorin's eyes fell on Bilbo it melted into something much more pained.  
  
"But as for you-“ Dwalin turned back to Bilbo, who'd folded his arms over his chest and stuck his chin out. “Imagine I’d shown up at your home, waved my axe at you, and demanded that you give me all your valuables. Would that have been fun?” Bilbo opened his mouth but Dwalin didn’t give him a chance to speak. “No, it would _not_ have been fun. Imagine I did that though, and then proceed to kick you out, and then after years of you living in a bush Thorin shows up, and the two of you finally, finally managed to get me away from your home. But you’ve not even enough time for a victory shag before your neighbours show up and proceed to tell you that they want some of your valuables, because on my way from you, I did some bad things to them.”

Bilbo slowly closed his mouth.  
  
“And then Thorin here shows up and offers to give them your mothers…” Dwalin looked to Kíli.  
  
“Glory box,” Kíli supplied.

“Right,” Dwalin nodded. “So he does that. Do you think you might be a tad upset at  that point? Say some things you didn’t mean, things you’ll bloody well apologize for if you know what’s good for you.” The last bit was aimed in Thorin’s direction, but then Dwalin’s attention immediately returned to Bilbo.  
  
“But _you_ , you need to understand that marrying a king isn’t going to be the same as marrying a farmer, or whatever you could have ended up with. If I’ve had to suffer through lectures about diplomacy and politics just because I'm _related_ to royalty, then I’m making you do it too. And talk to Bofur. He’s a bright lad, I’m sure he’s figured out most of the downsides of marrying a prince without someone banging him over the head with it.” Dwalin crossed his arms over his chest. “There. Now by Mahal’s balls, _stop_ acting like idiots.”  
  
“If I could, I’d want to have your children,” Kíli said dreamily. Then he frowned. “Did I say that out loud?”  
  
The flush crawling over Dwalin’s face was somewhat of a surprise to Fíli. “Aye,” the warrior said. “You did.”  
  
“You’ve got bigger hips than I do though,” Kíli said with a contemplative expression on his face.  
  
“I think Kíli just ruined Dwalin’s moment,” Fíli whispered to Bofur. “Now he’s embarrassed.”  
  
“Love, that’s not embarrassment.”  
  
“What?” Fíli looked back at Dwalin. His neck and face were flushed, he was squirming a little, and instead of meeting Kíli’s eyes he… was staring at Kíli’s hips. With a hungry look in his- “Oh, I didn’t just see that,” Fíli said with a wince. “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smaller bits are quicker to write, so with any luck there'll be some more updates this week, and hopefully things will not go arse over teakettle in them, and we'll make some progress and then we tackle the battle... and hopefully that will go... well. Yeah.
> 
> I'm thinking Thorin/Bilbo interlude soon to clear the air somewhat (I'm kinda not expecting those two to kiss and make up just yet, but who knows, they're never doing what I want them to anyway)  
> All in favour say: Dwalin would make a cute pregnant Dwarf


	91. Interlude - Now Hat's More Like It!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We check in with an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And move the plot along the tiniest bit. And possibly reach new levels of silly. But we could use some silliness at this point.

With a sigh I scrunch myself down a little more firmly on Bofur’s head.  
  
I want Thorin and Bilbo to stop fighting as much as the next hat (or Dwarf) wants, but I hope the others haven’t forgotten that there’ll be some more deadly fighting going on in just a few short days.  
  
Orcs are more likely to gnaw on your bones compared to just hurting your feelings. And the former is harder to fix.  
  
Gnaw on bones, or flaps... I might not be made out of flesh and blood, but that doesn’t mean that I want to spend my last moments of life in the jaws of an Orc. I wager they never clean their teeth.  
  
Although… am I really alive? Now that’s a very good question.

I think I am, and who would be a better judge of it than I could? No one, that’s who.  
  
Getting side-tracked here.  
  
While hurt feelings _hurt_ , and being dead probably doesn’t, I’m still going to vote that we all try and _not_ to end up dead. It seems so permanent. (And... very uncomfortable.) And to die now when we survived the Dragon without even getting the tiniest bit burnt (!) would be an outrage.  
  
 _Almost_ without getting burnt I should say, but Bilbo’s now slightly shorter and blackened curls will definitely grow back. Flaps do not. And he has lots of curls that are still perfectly fine. I only have two, count them, _two_ , flaps. If I lose even one that's - Am I getting side-tracked again? Maybe…  
  
Time to do something worthwhile. I’m on Bofur’s head. He does (most) of his thinking from this head. I like to think that I might influence him at least a little. Give him a good idea here and there. I was definitly trying to talk him into giving Fíli a chance, and see, Fíli was a lot more than just a pretty head. Sure I was a little sceptical at first, but that's all water under the bridge...  
  
Where was I? Yes.  
  
While Thorin and Bilbo are trying their best to not start shouting again, why don't we go back to the treasure chamber and find some armour? Armour. You know, the thing you wear when you don’t want to be killed? Yeah. That’s the stuff.  
  
Wouldn’t _that_ be a better use of our time compared to standing around and looking and Thorin and Bilbo and trying to pretend that we’re not standing around and looking at them? (I don’t even have eyes.) All in favour, raise a flap!  
  
Crap. I hope no one saw me do that. I forgot myself for a moment, no wind here to blame things on. At least Gandalf’s hat isn’t around. But the downside of that is that Gandalf isn’t around either.  
  
He would have puffed himself up and made everyone stop fighting. The Men and the Elves too. Though even if he gets here before the Orcs do, I’m not sure it’d work on them. Because it’s not worked so far. Orcs are clearly stupid.  
  
Which means that it’s up to me. Great.  
  
Okay. If I could breathe I would be taking a few deep breaths right now.  
  
Bofur? I know I’m not really talking to you, but you _need_ to listen to me.  
  
-  
  
Oh by Erur’s _hat_! That worked. Somehow it worked (and let's ignore how making everyone (excepting one King and one Hobbit) relocate was Fíli’s idea. Unless... maybe I thought loud enough to reach him too? In either case, it worked!)  
  
Brilliant! We are now in the armoury. Not the treasure chambers, the actual _armoury_. (Let’s also ignore how I was thinking about the treasure chamber. Obviously they picked up on my intent. I’m such a helpful hat I am. Who’s a good hat? I am!)  
  
The _armoury_. How great is that? Very great.  
  
And dusty. Very dusty. There wasn’t any dust in the treasure chambers so somewhere we should expect to find a Dragon sized dust cloth.  
  
Hopefully we will find armour first. Dwarf sized armour, because Dragon sized would be quite silly, and not very practical.  
  
I can’t help but noticing that Bofur has not picked a helmet. I appreciate that he loves me, I love him too, but there are helmets that can fit _over_ me. He doesn’t have to choose.  
  
“Here, try this,” Fíli offers, handing Bofur a large helmet.  
  
I love Fíli too. I really do. There I said it. Or not, because I don't actually speak. But if the thought counts, mine definitly do.  
  
“I can hardly move in all this,” Bofur grumps, banging his hand against his chest which results in a loud clanking sound and a frown on Fíli’s face. He’s very handsome when he frowns. Not as handsome as when he smiles, but very handsome nonetheless.  
  
Crap, getting side-tracked again. Is this the affect Dragon-sickness has on hats? Because I’m not usually like this. Or is Fíli getting more attractive? Further research needs to be made.  
  
“We can find something that’s not plate, there’s got to be a chain mail somewhere. If we go back to the treasure chambers maybe we can find more mithril mails.”  
  
“If we do, you’re wearing it.”  
  
“Not if I find it first.”  
  
“That doesn’t make any sense. Finders keepers.”

A slow smile spreads over Fíli’s face. Fíli is very handsome when he smiles. Did I already mention that? Possibly….  
  
“But if it’s mine then I get to do with it as I want.”  
  
“You’re a prince,” Bofur reasons. “The heir to the throne. It’s more important that you’re protected.”  
  
Great. They’re arguing about a piece of armour they’ve not even found yet. And they're arguing about that the other should be the most protected one. They need new role models, people not Thorin and Bilbo. Too bad those ponies didn't stick around for longer, they seemed reasonable. Of course they probably would have been eaten by now. And that's not an example I wish to set for my Dwarfs.  
  
“And I would fight better knowing that you are safe,” Fíli says, taking Bofur’s hand.  
  
Me too, Fíli, me too. If I _could_ fight. And on a related subject, I should work out how I can defend Bofur. Would trying to make myself harder be better than to try and fill up all the empty spaces in the helmet? Because I can’t do both at the same time.  
  
Hmmm. The helmet should be plenty sturdy on its own, so it would be better if I helped it fit properly on his head, and if someone manages to hit him that way I can help soften the blow and not have his head get smashed into the helmet from the inside.

Great, that’s a plan. I only wished there was something I could do for Fíli too. Beyond helping Bofur. I’m helping Bofur also for Bofur’s own sake, and for my sake (I don’t want another Dwarf) so it’s not very much for Fíli at all.  
  
Since he’s going to be wearing a crown one day I guess finding a companion hat for him would be a little silly. No one wants to be the hat that will inevitably be replaced.

Bofur doesn’t want a crown, he said it would make him feel silly. I may or may not have made a tiny shimmying motion of relief when he said that. Twice.  
  
Oh hello. Apparently the argument is over because now they’re kissing.

Fíli has pretty hair. I gently nudge my flap against it. Very soft too. A hat would be lucky to be on that head.  
  
If they do go down to the treasure chambers again perhaps I can help pick out a crown? Crowns are not hats, no need to even pretend that they are, but it's not completely impossible that there is a crown out there with a mind of its own. It would not be able to join the HATS Society, but I'm sure that can be overlooked.  
  
At least by me. And we don't need to tell Gandalf's hat. Hat or crown, headwear need to stick together.  
  
Unless there's glue involved.

Fíli is really handsome. Did I mention that already?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's quite possible that the next bit will be Thorin and Bilbo POV. It's not written yet, so we'll find out together. (Or technically I will find out first. But who's counting.)


	92. Interlude - To Err Is Human, And Hobbits and Dwarfs Are No Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin actually have a talk that's not an argument. At least not an argument to 99%  
> Okay 95%  
> But no one shouts so there are bonus points.

Bilbo licked his lips. Okay. Time to stop acting like the youngest Gamgee whenever he saw a pretty lass and actually say something. Hemming and hawing and just staring at Thorin would never amount to anything.  
  
The others had been kind enough to give them some privacy, and rude enough to be very obvious about why they needed it (Bilbo wasn’t really upset with them though, but as far as he was concerned; Dwalin’s little talk was the kick in the arse that he’d needed, no more help and meaningful looks necessary thank you very much).

“So we both did and said some things that we shouldn’t have,” Bilbo began, looking across the room to where Thorin was leaning against the wall.  
  
“No,” Thorin said, and Bilbo immediately bristled.  
  
“What do you mean ‘no’. You were-“  
  
“I mean that _you_ didn’t do anything wrong.”  
  
“Oh.” Bilbo blinked. Well this was somewhat of a change of heart. And now he felt even more guilty for jumping to conclusions. “You did hear what Dwalin said, didn’t you? I have to say that I do understand the points he made. You’re a king, I should have-“  
  
“No _I_ should have,” Thorin said with a deep sigh. “Already the first time I asked you to marry me I should have talked to you about what that would entail. But I didn’t.”  
  
“I could have asked,” Bilbo said tentatively. To be entirely honest he hadn’t really thought about what Thorin being King would mean for himself beyond that first bout of worrying that Thorin would need to find a Queen and have little princes and princesses.  
  
When it had been clear that was not the case… well, obviously he should not have been so quick to breathe a sigh of relief and call the whole thing settled. 

Dwalin definitly had a point in that Thorin wasn’t a farmer. (Though the idea of Thorin in shirt with dirt stains, plain trousers and bare feet was certainly a lovely one.) “I _should_ have asked,” Bilbo amended, because he should have. He hadn't forgotten about Thorin being a king, he'd just... ignored certain aspects of it.  
  
“It’s my failing,” Thorin said with an expression of most profound regret. “I failed you.”  
  
Bilbo sighed and sank down on the floor. Wrapping his arms around his knees he said: “Not more than I failed you I would say. I didn’t know that the stone meant so much to you. I thought it was just, I don’t know, a stone. Then again I guess a glory box is just a chest, so-“ Bilbo bit his lip. “Do you want it now?”  
  
It was still in his pocket, digging rather uncomfortably into his thigh. And less literally, into his guilty conscience. He shouldn’t be the one to have it.  
  
Thorin looked torn. “Keep it for now,” he said eventually. “I think that is best. There is something …” The Dwarf shook his head. “I am truly sorry for what happened on the battlements. What I said - I never intended for it to sound as if-” Thorin swallowed and looked away. “As it doubtlessly did to you. I hope you will allow me to make-”  
  
“Thorin,” Bilbo said softly. “As I said we both did and said some things we shouldn’t have. I was completely furious with you. But I’m not anymore.”  
  
What Dwalin had said and some time to think it over had very efficiently put an end to that. He was a little upset still, but compared to before it was hardly worth mentioning.  
  
“I don’t think that you really wanted to throw me-“ Bilbo’s eyes widened as Thorin flinched as if in pain. “-from the battlements,” the Hobbit finished a bit lamely. “ _Thorin_.”  
  
“That you ever had cause to think so, even for a moment-“ Thorin bent his head, and to Bilbo’s continued surprise; sank down onto his knees. “I- there are not words that will sufficiently express my regret.”  
  
“Thorin, please stand up,” Bilbo said,  then he realised that it was a little silly to ask Thorin to do so while sitting down on the floor himself,  even if he had only sat down because he was tired of standing.    
  
The Hobbit awkwardly got to his feet and padded over to the dejected looking Dwarf, gently touching his shoulder. “Come on then, stand up. We can’t have a discussion with both of us on the floor. There is a limit, and it is drawn at one.”

When Thorin just looked up at him with the saddest blue eyes he’d ever seen, Bilbo gently cupped his face. “I’m not saying that you weren’t being a colossal idiot, I’m saying that we _both_ were. I’ve got just as much to apologise for.”  
  
“No,” Thorin protested. “You didn’t-“  
  
“We’re not arguing about who is the biggest idiot,” Bilbo said firmly. “I’m nipping that one in the bud.”

Thorin looked confused. “Nipping? What bud?”  
  
“The argument. We’re not going to argue about that.”  He should probably have learnt by now that plant-related metaphors were sadly wasted on Dwarfs.  
  
“I think we’ve argued plenty during the last few days without getting into a competition about who’s the biggest moron," Bilbo continued. "As far as I’m concerned, we’ve both won already.” Bilbo nudged Thorin’s shoulder again. “Come now, stand up. Let’s pretend we’re two mature and sensible people. I think we gave it a good go before coming here, well most of the time, so it can’t be that tricky.”  
  
-  
  
When Thorin had allowed himself to picture their return to Erebor, the death of the Dragon, and their triumphant reclaiming of their home, it had not at all involved…. well, _anything_ that had happened during the last few days.  
  
Dwalin was entirely correct. There was much he needed to apologize for. The memory of Bilbo flinching away from him… that would surely haunt him to the rest of his days. It kept getting worse each time he thought about it.  
  
Thorin stayed on his knees, looking up at his- at Bilbo. “Will you allow me to make amends? Any punishment you-”  
  
“I’m not going to _punish_ you!” Bilbo exclaimed, looking aghast at the very idea. He took a half-step back and Thorin almost reached for him, asked him not to leave, but he remembered that he hadn’t the right.  
  
“I made you think- Bilbo there is nothing in this world I love more than I love you. I- what I said-“  
  
“Is Kíli right?” Bilbo asked. “You don’t want the Arkenstone now, is that because there really is something like the Dragon-sickness still lingering?”  
  
“There is something… not right,” Thorin said hesitantly, because he had spent almost an entire night lying awake thinking about the Arkenstone. At the time it had seemed perfectly reasonable. On hindsight.... “Call it Dragon-sickness or not. Though I do not claim that as an excuse for my actions.”  
  
He could very well remember his actions while out on the battlements. Nothing had forced him to say those hurtful things.  
  
Bilbo couldn’t be expected to know much, if anything about politics, or how the Arkenstone had been in his family’s care for centuries, about how you couldn’t trust anyone who came to negotiations with weapons all but drawn to not repeat that tactic over and over again.  
  
He should have talked to his Ho- to Bilbo about such things, but to be entirely honest, he hadn’t wanted Bilbo to second-guess his decision to marry him.  
  
Being wedded to a King was indeed nothing like being the spouse of a farmer. A frown briefly touched Thorin’s brow at the idea of Bilbo marrying someone else, but he forced it away. He hadn’t the right. Bilbo had not even acknowledged Thorin’s declaration of love just then.  Perhaps, it was too late.  
  
The small hand still gently touching his face might just be Bilbo being kind.  
  
As he had told Fíli that night before Bilbo first ventured into Erebor, it was too late for far too many things. Azog should have died at the gates of Moria. And now an army of Orcs were marching against them. The raven had not said who their leader was, but Thorin knew it would be the pale Orc as he knew his own name.  
  
“And are you feeling… not right, still?” Bilbo asked, brushing his thumb over Thorin’s face and Thorin closed his eyes for a brief moment. If Bilbo decided to end their relationship, would he ever feel right again? But that wasn't what had been asked.  
  
There was still a yearning to hold the Arkenstone in his hand, to gaze upon it and marvel at its beauty. Then the image of Bilbo flinching away from him presented itself in Thorin’s mind and he shuddered.  
  
“I don’t know,” he said hoarsely. “I truly don’t know. But I would rather throw myself down from Erebor’s walls then to cause you a moment more of hurt.”  
  
Bilbo sighed. “I’m not the innocent you paint me to be. Again, you were not the only one being a colossal idiot.”  
  
“It was not your fault.”  
  
“Beg to differ.” The corner of Bilbo’s mouth quirked slightly. “Kíli is perhaps the one who been most level-head these last few days. He’s a sweet boy, but I’m fairly sure that that is a good indication that something is amiss. Eggs…” The Hobbit shook his head. “But really now, _please_ get up from the floor. My knees ache just looking at you.”  
  
Thorin slowly rose to his feet. The fact that Bilbo kept one hand on him, now pressed against his arm instead of his cheek cheered the Dwarf somewhat.  
  
What he wanted was to gather Bilbo up in his arms, but… if Bilbo would flinch away then Thorin’s heart would surely break, and he would only have himself to blame.  
  
“Much better,” Bilbo said with a small smile. “Thank you. Now, as two mature and responsible people, I think we should agree that we both have done and said things that we should not have.”  
  
“But-“  
  
“Thorin, Dwalin is right. I was just as much of an idiot as you were. And we both had reasons to act like we did-”  
  
“But-“  
  
“Not necessarily good reasons, mind, but it’s not like we almost came to blows regarding what how much milk to put in tea - never let it be said that Bracegirdles-“  
  
“Bilbo,” Thorin interrupted.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Thorin’s jaws worked, but the right words refused to come out. “I don’t know what to say to make this better. I don’t know what to say to make you forgive me.”  
  
-  
  
Bilbo sighed. “I’m starting to suspect that you’re not listening to me again. This wasn’t your fault. I’m not saying that I agree with the whole concept that not giving away gold is better than ending up in a war, but I think I understand part of it. It’s like if I gave Lobelia a spoon each time she came around, against the promise that she’d leave afterwards. She’d likely set up camp in the garden to have a shorter distance to travel between each visit. And that girl can wield an umbrella just as well as any Man can wield a sword.”  
  
“You really need to tell me about this Lobelia,” Thorin said with an uncharacteristic hesitation, but at least he was trying to lighten the mood somewhat and Bilbo smiled up at him. “And the entire story about the eggs, even though I think the latter will make me want to put my nephew in house arrest for the next decade or so.”  
  
“Well, your plan was to shut us all inside this mountain,” Bilbo teased, but he but his tongue when Thorin’s face grew serious once more. Right, not the time for jokes yet. The idea that an army of Orcs were heading for them, and that the Elves and Men outside Erebor’s gates were not exactly friendly either… well, there wasn’t really anything Bilbo could do about it. Right now it didn’t even seem that important, because the still miserable look in Thorin’s eyes might be something he could actually fix.  
  
“My mother once threw a copper pot at my father,” Bilbo said conversationally. “She didn’t mean to, but he still ended up with a decently sized lump on the side of his head and had to stay in bed for a week. Though mother always claimed that he was well enough after the first couple of days and only milked it for sympathy.”  
  
Thorin looked endearingly confused.  
  
“It’s not okay for people who love each other to hurt each other,” Bilbo said quietly, and Thorin looked away. “But sometimes it happens, and the only thing you can do is to try and figure out how to not do it again. The next time I’m about to do something stupid because I don’t know better, tell me _why_ it’s stupid instead of _forbidding_ me to do it, and we’ll talk about it.”  
  
Thorin opened his mouth and Bilbo reached up to press a finger too it. “If you tell me that I didn’t do anything wrong again, I’m going to take that as permission to use the Arkenstone as a paper weight.”  
  
“How do you accidentally throw a copper pot at someone?” Thorin asked, his slightly chapped lips and his soft-rough beard brushing against Bilbo’s fingers in a pleasing tickle, and the Hobbit had to take a moment to give himself a stern talking to. Especially when the image of Thorin as a farmer made a second appearance. Only now he wasn’t wearing a shirt at all.  
  
“Apparently she was aiming for a spider.” Bilbo shook his head. “Imagine what she would have thrown had she been able to see the ones in Mirkwood. She’d gone back to the Misty Mountains to recruit a Stone Giant.”  
  
It was a relief to see the hint of a smile on Thorin’s lips. Come what may, Bilbo would make his best to not let it disappear entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll leave it like that with those two for now. Everything isn’t going to get resolved in one conversation, but at least things are better.  
> And no matter what is said now Thorin will not be entirely convinced that Bilbo isn't about to call it quits. But I promise he was totally relieved by the "people who love each other"-bit. 
> 
> Also, I want to get back to something resembling plot again. But interludes got to get their time in the sun. I’d write a Kíli/Dwalin one as well, but honestly, those two are basically just shagging in a corner, and that would destroy my rating, lol. I'll leave that one to your imagination ;)


	93. Prince Charming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what's the plan for defeating an army of Orcs and Wargs?

“I’m starting to think that my hat’s shrunk,” Bofur complained. “It feels tighter than before. Or maybe that’s just the helmet.”  
  
“Have your head grown?” Fíli teased. “Just leave it for now, the helmet I mean, I don’t think you’ll need it.”  
  
Hopefully the meeting with the Elves and Men would not really require armour beyond posturing. They were going unarmed after all. Well, without any visible weapons, because Fíli was _not_ leaving all of his knives in Erebor. That was just stupid. But what the Elves and Men wouldn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, quite literally in this case as his knives would only be making an appearance if someone got violent.  
  
“Only one of your heads are supposed to change size,” Bombur pointed out. “Would be terribly inconvenient if your upper head grew just because you saw a cute pair of-“  
  
“Thank you, Bombur,” Bofur said. “That’s quite enough.”  
  
“Just because Fíli doesn’t have breasts, and you are apparently fine with that, does it mean that the rest of us aren’t still interested,” Bombur said. “I don’t know what it is with the royals and the lack of proper appreciation for breasts, but I hope it's not contagious. They’re soft and very delightful. Even the small ones. The breasts I mean, not the royals.”

Fíli snorted. “I’m rather curious to see what would happen if you came with us to the meeting with the Elves and Men.”  
  
It’d just be him and Bofur for this first meeting, and hadn’t that been a fun discussion.  
  
Someone had to go. Everyone agreed on that. They needed to work together to be able to defeat the coming army of Orcs. It was deciding _who_ should go that caused problem.  
  
Someone from the royal family needed to go or it would have been a too big snub, but everyone but Thorin agreed that Thorin shouldn’t go just in case anyone got the bright idea of keeping Thorin prisoner and trying to exchange him for treasure (sure, the Orcs were still coming, but that didn’t mean that the Elves and Men didn’t have time for some blackmail as Dáin was still a day’s journey away). That left Fíli and Kíli and Fíli was not about to send Kíli as he was only slightly more diplomatic than Thorin. Not that he was rude, but he didn’t really think before he spoke. No, really.  
  
As far as Fíli was concerned that only left himself, but Thorin had vehemently protested that either of his nephews should go. And that had brought the argument back to the beginning and so it had gone on for a while before Fíli had pointed out that he was the obvious compromise. Important enough to not make anyone feel slighted; the heir was after all a future king, but for now Fíli was nothing more than a prince. Then Bofur had volonteered himself along, since no one should go on their own.  
  
Eventually the others had agreed. If very mulishly (Thorin) and sulkily (Kíli) and grudgingly (everyone else).

“Eh, it’s not like I’d be interested in heaping compliments on the Elves and Men. Too tall and too stringy the lot of them from what I’ve seen. And that’s without mentioning the lack of breasts.”

“You just mentioned it,” Bofur said drily.  
  
“And yet you are not properly sympathetic.” Bombur clucked his tongue and placed his hand over Bofur’s forehead. “I swear you used to like the lasses almost as much as I do. This being in love business is rather peculiar.”  
  
Fíli hid a smile as Bofur’s cheeks coloured. It was sweet, but he knew better than to point it out. See, he was the very epitome of diplomatic. (Not to mention that he knew words like ‘epitome’.)  
  
“I’ve always had a broader appreciation of beauty than you’ve had,” Bofur managed.  
  
“I’ll say,” Bombur said with a sidewise glance at Fíli. “No offence.”  
  
“None taken,” Fíli said, amused against his will once more. It was somewhat a recurring theme with Bombur.  
  
“I mean, you’re pretty and all, but-“ Bombur made a considering face. “But-“  
  
“Please don’t,” Bofur moaned. “I swear, we’ve already discussed this. No need for a repeat. I promise I’ve not forgotten it.”  
  
“Are you sure you wanna take that one to diplomatic discussion,” Bombur asked Fíli. “Not _very_ diplomatic is he?”  
  
“If the Elves and Men start to discuss the merits, or lack thereof, of my hips and chest, he’s welcome to be undiplomatic,” Fíli said wryly and patted Bofur’s back comfortingly. “But I don’t see any reason for that subject to come up. Unless they’ve someone been talking to Kíli about the possibility of males bearing children.”  
  
“Did he ever think about where the babe would come out of?” Bombur asked with a wince. “Not to mention what usually comes out of there? It’s filthy.”  
  
“Filthy, he says,” Bofur murmured.  
  
“Well it is,” Bombur said and raised his chin(s). “Would _you_ like to get shoved up someone arse? All of you I mean?”

“I think we ought to be going now,” Fíli said and pulled on Bofur’s arm.  
  
“Please,” Bofur agreed.  
  
-  
  
It wasn’t very dignified to get out of Erebor by climbing down a rope, but they were not going to open the main gates until Dáin arrived. Which was also why the meeting was to be held outside Erebor in one of the huge tents that the Elves had erected.  
  
“I don’t want to hear about you two being taken as hostages,” Thorin said just before they departed. Then he paused. “Or, I would. But I prefer not to. So do not get taken as hostages.”

“I’ll try to walk the line of not being charming enough that they want to keep me, but still charming enough not to start any fights,” Fíli said with a smile. “And Bofur has promised to try and be less charming as well or they’ll definitely want to keep him.”  
  
“Going to be real tough,” Bofur said and rolled his eyes.  
  
Fíli was not sure how to feel about having Bofur join him. It was both a great comfort and a huge worry, all at once. The Men and Elves better behave or the Orcs would be the least of their problems, Fíli thought and did a mental repetition of where his knives were. Boot, boot, inside pocket, hair (Nori had shown him how to do that)-  
  
“It eases my worry to know that you are going with him,” Thorin said to Bofur who looked stunned for a moment before composing himself and bowing his head. Thorin glanced at Fíli and one corner of his mouth quirked up. “My nephew has been much less prone to certain… boisterous behaviours ever since meeting you. A few occasions mostly involving myself and Bilbo aside.”  
  
“Hide a horse in someone’s rooms _once_ ,” Fíli griped, but he couldn’t stop a smile from curling his lips. He wondered how much Thorin really knew about all his plans to get him and Bilbo together.  
  
“Indeed,” Thorin agreed. “Are you two sure that you wish to go?”  
  
Fíli and Bofur both nodded. “Then go now, and try not to fall asleep.”  
  
“Thorin,” Bilbo and Balin both protested.  
  
-  
  
It turned out that Thorin had had the right idea after all. The meeting was mind-numbingly boring.  
  
They had all come to agree that killing Orcs sounded like a good idea, and that it was useless making any real plans beyond that before Dáin arrived and they knew exactly what troops he’d brought. So mostly they just sat around and pretended that _they’d_ not been about to go to war before realising that a horde of Orcs and Wargs had been heading this way.  
  
Fíli wondered how much of their taste for treasure the Men and Elves would regain after the Orcs had been dealt with. With Mahal’s blessing he would still be around to see that for himself. This would be his first big battle (a fact that he carefully did not reveal to the Men and Elves) and there was never any guarantees who would be able to walk away from the field and who would be carried.  
  
As some Man droned on about something or another having do to with the best way to organize mounted troops Fíli’s gaze fell on the Elven King sitting tall and pale and thin on the other side of the table. (Pretty much the exact opposite of Bombur’s ideal for a spouse.)  
  
Elves lived forever unless they died from mortal  wounds or grave sickness. Did that make it easier or harder for them to do battle? They’d not seemed very hesitant coming armed to Erebor’s gates and demanding treasure. But they hadn’t been keen on going up against a Dragon. But they lived in a forest with giant spiders, enchanted rivers (well one, but one was enough) and all sorts of unpleasant and potentially deadly things.

Elves were very strange.  
  
Fíli bit his lip and tried to remember that he was an official representative of Erebor. He’d just heard a small snore coming from Bard’s direction. The Man looked to have his eyes opened, but apparently that was just for show.  
  
When the Man speaking paused for breath Fíli saw his chance.  
  
“King Thranduil, Lord Bard.” The former raised a pale eyebrow and the latter flinched and blinked his eyes rapidly a few times. At Fíli’s right Bofur also sat up a little straighter.  
  
“I wish to thank you for you hospitality-“ (Indeed, it had been very lovely not to actually be taken hostage.)”- and suggest that we continue this meeting tomorrow, after Lord Dáin has arrived.”  
  
“Very well, Prince Fíli,” the Elven King agreed.  
  
“Sure,” Bard said, after a moment. “And I’m still not a Lord.”  
  
-  
  
“ _Thank you_ ,” Bofur whispered heartfelt as they were leaving the tent. “I was moments from falling asleep where I sat.”  
  
“Not that I’m not glad no one kidnapped us,” Fíli murmured. “But I rather wished that _something_ had happened.”  
  
Bofur snorted. “And you usually say that _I’m_ the one challenging fate.”  
  
“Prince Fíli!”  
  
They both turned around to see a very tall, very muscular Man ran towards them. Holding an axe.  
  
“Make _one_ single stupid comment,” Fíli muttered, hand twitching towards his closest knife. “Bofur, please step behind me.”  
  
“You forgot this,” the Man huffed as he reached them, stretching out the axe handle first.  
  
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t bring an axe to the meeting,” Fíli said cautiously. If this was some sort of trap, it seemed a very odd one.  
  
“No, but when you left Lake-town,” the man explained, shaking the axe slightly in a prompt for Fíli to take it, which he did. “This was left in your room, beneath your bed. I promised the innkeeper that I’d return it.”  
  
Fíli took a closer look at the axe. “It _is_ my axe.” How could he have forgotten it and not even realised? And beneath the bed? Okay, so he probably had more weapons than anyone else in the Company (unless you counted all of Nori’s daggers) but still. It was very sloppy and he would _not_ tell Dwalin about it. “You have my thanks, Master…”  
  
The Man smiled. “ Oh, just call me Tim. Tiny Tim to my friends.”  
  
Bofur chuckled. “I’m not sure that name suits you, lad.”  
  
The Man shrugged and grinned down at them. “It’s mine even so.” He made an awkward little bow and then turned around again. “Nice meeting you!” he called over his shoulder.  
  
Fíli turned to Bofur who shrugged.

“Men are strange? I think the subject of fish came up three times even though it didn't really have anything to do with what we were talking about.”  
  
Strange indeed. And Elves were strange.

And since Bombur was a Dwarf, it was probably safe to say that Dwarfs were strange too. Oh, yeah, and Kíli. Could not forget about his brother. So Dwarfs could definitly be strange too. 

Perhaps they could all work together after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally I'm still waiting for that plan on how to defeat an army of Orcs and Wargs. Dáin, hurry your arse up and get to Erebor.


	94. Fíli and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli is basically having a bad day.

“You've never been one to do things the easy way, cousin," Dain said with a sigh. When Thorin’s frowned deepened Dáin huffed and waved his hand dismissively .”It was not intended as criticism, Thorin. After all, your way have succeed beyond what I ever thought possible.”  
  
Thorin had just finished telling a greatly shortened version of their journey to Erebor, and Fíli observed the undisguised awe in Dáin’s gaze as it swept over the throne room and the blond Dwarf just _barely_ bit back the question of it Dáin regretted denying Thorin's his aid when he’d asked for it before they had left for Erebor.   
  
It was _understandable_ that Dáin hadn’t wanted to send an army against a Dragon seeing how many good warriors had died when Smaug first came to Erebor. It was. It really was. (And if Fíli kept telling himself that, he might be able to forgive Dáin, eventually.)  
  
Dáin had come to their aid now, and that was great. Really great. And it surely had nothing to do with the Dragon being dead and Erebor’s treasure being what it was. Absolutely not. Thorin had asked him, and now he had agreed, and that was great. Just great.  
  
“Darlin’,” Bofur murmured. “You’re rather squeezing the life out of my hand.”  
  
“Oh,” Fíli immediately loosened his grip, feeling like a right arse when Bofur gingerly pulled his hand away. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
“It’s alright,” Bofur smiled kindly and wrapped his arm around Fíli’s waist. “Let’s try it like this.”  
  
Thorin shifted where he sat on the throne, and then he sighed and got up. He walked the few steps down to where Dáin was standing and clasped his cousin’s shoulder, giving him a small shake.  
  
“I can take very little credit for the success of this quest, and any celebrations will have to wait until we have defeated the horde of Orcs coming for us.”  
  
“You did bring a scribe with you?” Dáin asked, apparently not that concerned about the Orcs. Mahal's beard...   
“I’m really looking forward to hearing more of your adventures once we’ve flattened the Orcs into a paste. All those Elves outside the gates have to be good for something.”

Dáin’s arrival to Erebor had been… interesting. The Elves and Men had camped just a short distance away from Erebor’s gates, their camps spreading out to the east, which happened to be the direction as Dáin was approaching from, the Iron Mountain's being located where they were and all. Seeing as Dáin had no desire to go the long way around the encampment, he had marched his Dwarfs directly through the gathered Elves and Men.   
  
To observe this from Erebor’s battlements had been… Fíli didn’t even know how to describe it. It had rather been like watching the ripples on a pond after you throw a stone into it. Very noisy and awkward ripples that was.   
  
But eventually Dáin and his warriors had reached the gates – without any causalities on either side - and the gates had then been opened by Bifur and Dwalin and just as quickly closed once the last Dwarf had marched through.

It probably was just his imagination, but as the Dwarven warriors had begun to march inside Erebor, Fíli thought he caught a glimpse of a tall and pale figure in the Elven camp, wearing a crown, who stomped his foot in annoyance.   
  
“Indeed, we have a scribe, and a very talented one,” Thorin said and gestured for Ori to step forward.  
  
“Excellent,” Dáin said with a smile, that soon turned into a confused frown. “Er- lad? Do you know that there’s a bird on your head?”  
  
Poor Ori blushed something fierce. “Yes, Lord Dáin, I’m well aware.” The thrush cooed at Ori, then turned an unimpressed look at Dáin.  
  
“I see,” Dáin said slowly. “Well, I hope you will be amenable to joining me at some point and share your story. With or without your… little friend.”  
  
The thrush shook her head, while Ori nodded rapidly, making the bird spread her wings slightly for balance. Dori had by this point hidden his head in his hands and was muttering something about how propriety, and how their family would never be deemed respectable at this rate.  
  
“Of course, Lord Dáin,” Ori agreed, before stepping back and standing next to Nori once more. Nori was grinning broadly, and poked the bird in her side, making her fluff up even more and chirp shrilly at him.   
  
Thorin had been watching this with a look of exasperated acceptance, but when Dáin turned back to him he schooled his expression into regal blankness.   
  
“Right,” Dáin said after a few moments of silence. “How about we make some plans to kill some Orcs?”  
  
Dwalin snorted. “You need _plans_ for that now, Dáin? Old age getting to you?”  
  
“Considering that our esteemed King over here-“ Dáin nodded his head at Thorin. “Is actually older than us both, I’d not say too much about my age.”

Thorin glanced in Bilbo’s direction, something Dáin caught, and one of his eyebrows rose in inquiry.   
  
They’d not yet gotten to the part where they told Dáin about the various engagements (while Kíli and Dwalin hadn’t yet declared that they’d marry, no one really expected them to do otherwise as Kíli apparently planning to have Dwalin’s physically impossible children) and while Fíli didn’t expect Dáin to actually oppose Thorin’s decision to marry Bilbo, Dáin was rather a traditionalist when it came to certain things. It was quite possible that he’d not exactly jump for joy either, which was inconvenient since he was the one who would have to perform the ceremony.   
  
Not that Thorin looking at someone and seeming worried about their opinion meant that he’d wanted to marry them, but… well, okay, if they weren't related to him that probably meant exactly that, fine.  
  
Then there was also the rather more worrying concept of Thorin and Bilbo being enough at odds with each other still that marriage was not really on the horizon for now. They’d had a talk, Fíli knew that much, and they’d seem more at ease with each other after that, but things were still a bit strained. And the absence of the Arkenstone on the throne was also rather telling that not all was well just yet.   
  
Thorin worrying about his age compared to Bilbo's was surely a good sign though? If he could worry about something as trivial as that, then he didn’t worry about more important things and that… might actually be bad if there were actually more important things to worry about… Or it meant that there wasn't anything to worry over.  
  
It felt a bit like before the two had first realised that they loved each other, and Fíli really didn’t want to go through that process a second time. He’d barely held on to his sanity the first time around. At least Erebor had a lot of rooms with locks if it came down to that. But that would have to wait until they’d killed an army of Orcs. Joy.  
  
“Besides,” Dáin continued. “I never said that the plan had to be a _complicated_ one. Orc, sword or axe, dead Orc. That seems about right.“  
  
“We’ll meet with the Elves and Men later today,” Thorin said shortly. “We do not have that much time left before the Orcs will arrive. The ravens told me that they will arrive within two days’ time.“  
  
“Excuse me, Your Highness, Lord Dáin?”   
  
One of Dáin’s guards had entered the throne room and nervously looked between Thorin and Dáin,  bowing awkwardly. “I’m begging your pardon, but, um, someone is knocking on the front gates?”  
  
“And did you check who?” Dáin said drily.   
  
“Yes, m’lord.”  
  
“Who then?” Thorin demanded when the guard didn’t elaborate.   
  
“It’s the Wizard Gandalf, Your Highness.”  
  
“Gandalf?” Bilbo echoed, pleased surprise spreading over his face. “He’s here?”  
  
“Yes, Master-” the guard paused. “Hobbit?”  
  
“Oh, my name is Bilbo Baggins,” Bilbo said with a distracted smile and a small wave that caused Nori to snicker and Dori to shake his head. “Hello.”  
  
“Hi?” the guard said, a little shyly, and Thorin’s frown returned with vengeance.   
  
Fíli sighed and rested his head against Bofur’s shoulder. Then the blond realised that they probably wouldn’t have to tell Dáin about their plan to wed considering that they were wrapped up in one another.   
  
He’d gotten so used to being able to reach out and touch whenever he wanted to that he’d rather forgotten that it wasn’t quite how you were supposed to behave when you were standing in a throne room. He considered straightening up and acting more like the heir should; dignified, regal, noble – and not clingy and tired, but in the end Fíli merely leaned a little more of his weight against Bofur.   
  
He _was_ clingy and tired, and he had a damned right to feel that way considering everything that had happened since they left Ered Luin, and also considering the huge army of Orcs heading their way. Even just what had happened since their arrival to Erebor was enough to allow him to be how grumpy and tired as he damned well pleased. As an example, getting his axe back from that unusually kind Man had been nice, but then Dwalin of course had seen it when they'd gotten back from the meeting and asked where he'd been hiding that when he left, and then he'd ended up getting a scolding for not caring for his weapons. Most everything had been like that. They'd gotten to Erebor, only to discover that the Dragon was still alive. They get inside, only to fall victims to the Dragon-sickness. Then the Dragon was killed, but only after burning parts of the Men's town. And so on.  
  
Therefor, if there was some protocol that took offense at him being tired, it could go and jump into the Long Lake, and Dáin could join it if he had anything to add. Not that it looked like he minded. Or that he’d even noticed.   
  
Maybe he was being a little unfair… Dáin had not even said turned his nose up at Ori’s bird. Maybe he’d relaxed some since Fíli had last met him. He would probably be fine with Thorin and Bilbo as well. Probably.   
  
Sighing again Fíli shifted a little closer still to Bofur.  
  
“Not excited to see Gandalf?” Bofur murmured.  
  
“I’m just, ’m tired,” Fíli muttered. He wanted a week , even just a day, where nothing unexpected would happen, and the words ‘politics’, ‘propriety’ and ‘prince’ would be banished. Oh, and Orcs too. They’d popped up with such a frequency that they could perhaps not be said to be unexpected anymore.

The guard scurried off with the order to let Gandalf inside, and when Bilbo opted to come with him Thorin began glaring holes into the back young Dwarf’s head.  
  
Other things to ban: jealous uncles, oblivious Hobbits, and everyone in the world who wasn’t Bofur. That ought to cover it.  
  
-

Gandalf had apparently been very busy as well since they last parted. Banishing a shade of Sauron was somewhat more impressive than being captured by giant spiders, Elves and then failing to kill a Dragon and almost ending up in a war.

Indeed. And it probably was a fair enough reason to abandoning them to get captured by giant spiders, Elves, and so on. And he’d returned as soon as he could. Perfectly reasonable, and no need to be upset.  
  
Fíli was still upset.   
  
And he was sick of being upset at people who seemed to have perfectly reasonable reasons as to why he shouldn’t be upset with them. Maybe this was why Thorin really didn’t like Elves, because as things currently stood, they were probably the ones who had the least valid reasons for being arseholes. Even the Orcs could just blame it on being evil, but the Elves were just being stubborn and greedy.  
  
Then again, Fíli couldn’t be upset at the Elves either, because they were currently allies. Though he didn’t think that would stop Thorin and Thranduil from coming to blows during the upcoming meeting if someone was foolish enough to seat them within convenient grabbing-reach from one another.  
  
“I’m going to get some air,” Fíli said softly to Bofur, not wanting to interrupt the discussion of what to discuss during the meeting that afternoon. (Which was just as much fun as it sounded like.)  
  
“I’ll come with you,” Bofur said, beginning to get up, but Fíli gently pressed on his shoulder.   
  
“I’ll just go to the battlements, and Dáin’s soldiers are keeping watch. I’ll be fine, and I'll be right back.”  
  
“You sure?”  
  
Fíli nodded, even though he wasn’t sure if he was sure of much of anything at the moment.   
  
But he did know that he wasn’t at all contributing with anything relevant, so he might as well go outside and clear his head for a while. Bofur was not entirely conducive for head clearing as his presence usually resulted in Fíli being unable to think of anything but him.

However, all attempts to try and discreetly sneak away were foiled when Ori’s thrush suddenly came flying and landing on his head. His surprised shout (not a squeak) caused everyone to stop talking and turn to look at him. Brilliant.  
  
“No,” Fíli said sternly and tried to lift it away. It responded with a series of stubborn chirps, and sinking its tiny feet deep into his hair. “Ori? Help?”  
  
“If you think I can talk her into anything, do you really think that she’d stayed on my head for so long?” Despite that, Ori looked a little jealous about the bird’s sudden decision to sit on Fíli’s head instead of his.   
  
“If you also want some fresh hair – I mean air, you are welcome to follow me outside, _but_ -“ Fíli held out his hand. “If you don’t hop into my hand I’ll not be responsible for the consequences.”  
  
The bird cheeped darkly.   
  
“I might decide to go and wash my hair for one,” Fíli continued. “With lots of water that would mess up your feathers.”  
  
Very grudgingly, the bird untangled its feet and jumped into Fíli’s hand. “Ori, lad, clearly you’re too nice,” Glóin chuckled, leaning over to slap Ori on the back. The bird shook her head most vehemently. And then she looked smug.

“You are a very rude little bird,” Fíli told her as he began walking out of the room. What she had done was to decide to leave him a little filthy present in the palm of his hand. “You’d do well to remember that you’re tiny and fluffy and very crushable.”  
  
Then again, that was likely an lame threat considering that she’d also crapped on a Dragon. And also, he didn't really want to hurt her.  
  
As he left the room, he heard Dáin begun to speak once more.

“Cousin, when I said you do not do things the easy way, perhaps I should expand that to include the rest of your company and use the word 'normal' instead.”

-  
  
Once they got out into the fresh air the bird flew from his hand and perched just on the edge of the wall in a spot a good distance away from any of Dáin’s soldiers. Fíli scraped his hand on the closest bit of stone, feeling vaguely sacrilegious as he did so, but it was hardly the first time a bit of Erebor would have bird droppings on it.  
  
“Happy now?” he asked the bird as he joined her by the edge, and she nodded cheerfully.   
  
“You know that Ori is going to lock himself into the library as soon as circumstances allow,” Fíli said casually. “Not going to be going outside for months I imagine.”

He’d only meant to tease, so when the tiny thing’s shoulders actually drooped dejectedly Fíli felt a little bad.   
  
“We’re Dwarfs,” he said gently. “Not birds.”  
  
Such a small thing could pack an awful lot of derision into just one look.  
  
“All I’m saying is that Uncle and Bilbo will have a hard enough time of it, but Bilbo is at least used to living inside of something, if not a mountain.”  
  
The bird sighed and puffed up its feathers until it resembled a small and sad ball, and when Fíli stroked its side with one finger it leaned into his touch.

“You’d not want to have eggs with Ori anyway,” Fíli pointed out. “Not only is it impossible, but he’d probably put a book on them by accident. Hey!” Fíli protested as the bird picked at his finger.   
  
-  
  
The meeting with the Elves and Men was a bit more… interesting  than the last one, and rather more productive too. Everyone from the Company joined, plus Dáin along with some of his advisors.   
  
Bilbo was sitting next to Thorin to so he would (at least Fíli hoped so) be able to elbow him when he was about to say something too insulting. Which seemed to be a distinct possibility because for some reason Thranduil seemed very interested in him. Bilbo that was.  
  
It could just be that he’d picked up on the small detail of Thorin turning into a thundercloud whenever he noticed that any Elf as much as glanced at Bilbo, but it actually seemed to be something other than that.   
  
Thankfully, (and oh thank you Mahal was Fíli grateful) it didn’t seem as if Thranduil was _interested_ in Bilbo. That would just- no. So many, many reason no.  
  
Instead, the Elven King kept tilting his head and looking at Bilbo as if the Hobbit occasionally turned into someone he should recognize, or if he had just whispered something across the table that he hadn’t quite heard. It was very strange to say the least. Then again, perhaps he was just trying to work out where Bilbo had come from considering that he’d not - to the King’s knowledge - been with them in Mirkwood, but suddenly appeared in Lake-town.   
  
Yes, that was most likely it. Still, that didn’t mean that Thorin wouldn’t end up throttling him if he kept it up, and that would not be very diplomatic.  
  
Also, it looked like Bilbo was beginning to be annoyed with both the staring and the glaring and that wasn’t very good either.

Thankfully, the time needed to come up with a plan that everyone agreed to was blessedly short.    
  
The ravens had told them that the Orcs would be coming from the north, which meant that either they would need to climb over the mountain, or they would be a bit more reasonable and go around the western slopes as that would be the shortest route.   
  
Orcs often _weren’t_ particularly reasonable, but they also didn’t seem to be the sort that would try and climb a mountain just for the thrill of it.  So since they knew where the enemy would be, all they needed to do was the position their forces in the most advantageous way, dig a few trenches, build a few walls, and then wait.

What the most advantageous way was took some discussion, but since Dáin's soldiers were equipped for close combat, the Elves had bows, and the Men were able riders, it wasn't that hard to agree on a strategy.

To be entirely sure that the Orcs wouldn’t go around the eastern slopes of the mountain, or that they wouldn’t try and split up and attack from two directions, a group of Men and Elves would ride out and pretend to attack, only to lure them to the western side.

That being settled, and the orders given to start constructing defence, the meeting was quickly concluded, without any blood being shed.  
  
That would have to wait until the Orcs arrived. 

As they walked back to Erebor, it started to rain. Wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine it's stressful knowing that an army of Orcs are marching towards you *pets Fíli* And he still hasn't gotten to marry Bofur poor thing.


	95. My True Love Hath My Heart, And I Have His

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are gathered here today...

“Do you want to do it now?” Fíli asked Bofur, and at the confused (with a hint of a blush) look he received as a reply, the blond reworded his statement. “Getting married. Would you like to get married to me now? We can ask Thorin.”  
  
“Oh.” Bofur blinked. “Sorry, love, let me just-“ He blinked again. “Okay, so now we’re on the same page. You want to, now?”  
  
Fíli couldn’t help but smirk. “I always want to,” he murmured huskily.  
  
They were sitting together out on the battlements, watching the sun set. Or more precisely watching the sky go red and orange and then dark because the battlements weren’t overlooking the west so there was no actual sun.  
  
Dori and Bilbo would probably scold them if they saw them, considering as there was nothing beneath their feet but a huge drop and then the ground, and Thorin would probably remind them that the Elves still had their bows, but Fíli didn’t really think they’d renegade on the alliance that quickly and drastically. No, he was more expecting something along the lines of waking up in the morning and finding that all the Elves had packed their bags and gone back to their forest, leaving them to deal with thousands of Orcs instead of a Dragon like last time.  
  
“Stop that,” Bofur scolded when Fíli wouldn’t stop grinning at him, even with the less than cheery thoughts running through his mind. Bofur was too gorgeous when he got a bit flustered. “Don’t go changing pages again.”  
  
Then Bofur relented and leaned in for a quick kiss. “But it’s lovely to see you smiling. You’ve been a bit glum since the meeting.”

“ _Elves_ ,” Fíli muttered, then he made a face. “I think I’m turning into my uncle.”  
  
“Then you’d have to marry yourself seeing as you’re the short, adorable blond in this relationship.”

“I’m the crown prince,” Fíli huffed. And that was too a valid argument.  
  
“And a short, adorable one you are,” Bofur agreed. “So, wedding?”  
  
“I just thought, I want to do it now.” Fíli glanced away. Oh look, a rock, how interesting. “In case… if something happens I want to be your husband.”  
  
“Fíli...”  
  
“No,” Fíli said, shaking his head. “It’s only realistic.” He nudged his shoulder against Bofur’s. “I want to spend the rest of my life being married to you. I know you don’t think I make the best plans, but the obvious place to start here seems to be with getting married. And then whatever happens-”  
  
“Don’t talk like that.”

“I’ll stop it if you marry me.”  
  
Bofur snorted. “That’s the way we’re going to start our marriage? Blackmail?”  
  
“Not if it’s not going to work.”  
  
Fíli sighed and reached over to take Bofur’s hand. “I said I would marry you when we got to Erebor.” He waved his free hand, realised that he’d waved it at anything but Erebor, and shrugged. “We’re in Erebor, Bofur. And I want to marry you. I want to be able to point at you and say: ‘Yeah, that’s my husband.  No, not him. I meant the handsome one. The one with the hat’.”  
  
“That’s very specific,” Bofur smiled.  
  
“I can be specific,” Fíli nodded. “So, do you want to?”  
  
“Of course,” Bofur mumbled.

During the following kiss they almost fell off the side of the wall. But just almost.

-

That same evening, Fíli took Bofur by the hand and then went to hunt down Thorin. His uncle and Bilbo were sitting and talking to Dáin, Thorin and Bilbo were holding hands, which probably meant that they had made up, that Dáin knew about their relationship, and that he was all right with it.

That or Dáin was either blind or very confused why his cousin had started holding hands with random Hobbits.  
  
Fíli didn’t know if Dáin had ever met a Hobbit before, so he supposed that he would think it was simply the done thing. Except for how Thorin didn’t really have a reputation for being culturally sensitive. And he was about as diplomatic as a walnut. And as touchy-feely as one too.  
  
So, it was probably safe to say that Dáin knew about their relationship.  
  
“You sure you know what you’re getting yourself into marrying someone like him?” Dáin said as Fíli and Bofur approached. Fíli bristled and he could see Bofur frowning out of the corner of his eye. How dared he insinuate that Bilbo was beneath-  
  
“Quite sure,” Bilbo said with a small smile.  
  
Oh. But still.  
  
“Thank you,” Thorin said wryly. “Are you quite done now?”  
  
“Cousin, I’m just looking out for your intended.” He turned to Bilbo. “We, my wife and I, thought that he’d never settle down. If it doesn’t happen in the first  two centuries…”  
  
“I have not even lived two centuries.”  
  
“Well, it’s not far off now.”  
  
Apparently Dáin’s sense for propriety had decided that getting Thorin married was more important than who he was getting married to. That or he really had decided to relax a little since Fíli last met him.

“And you’re really sure?” Dáin asked Bilbo who smiled politely back at him.  
  
“Yes.”

Thorin noticed that Fíli and Bofur was coming over and something similar to relief flashed over his face.  
  
“Nephew, Bofur, _join us_.”  
  
It was not a question in the same way that water was not wet.  
  
“We had something we wanted to ask you actually,” Fíli said, holding Bofur’s hand a little tighter. No reason to beat around the bush… “Would you marry us now?”  
  
“ _Now_?” Dáin asked, horrified. “With Elves camping outside the gates and your mother half across the world? This simply won’t do.”  
  
Relax a _little_ seemed to have been the perfect description for what Dáin had done. 

“Now,” Fíli repeated. “Before the Orcs show up.”  
  
When Bofur squeezed his hand a little tighter Fíli squeezed right back.  
  
“But, we won’t have time to do a proper ceremony.” Dáin sounded as if they’d suggested that they both marry the previously mentioned Orcs . Or possibly Elves. It was possible it would yield much the same kind of level of shock.  
  
“There can be time for a proper ceremony later?” Bofur suggested, prompting Dáin to give him an exasperated look.  
  
“But then you’ll already be _married_. You can’t marry twice.”  
  
“As long as you marry the same person I don’t see why not,” Bilbo said. “Or does a Dwarven ceremony require something that Thorin has forgotten to mention? The severing of a limb? Because if that’s the case I would understand the need to only do it once.”  
  
“You are free to ask me if I am sure about marrying him,” Thorin muttered to Dáin. It would have been more convincing if he’d not been gently stroking his thumb over Bilbo’s knuckles at the same time.  
  
“You are the crown prince, the heir to the throne, someone who-“  
  
“Someone who will be going out to battle in perhaps as little as a day,” Fíli said frankly. “And so will Bofur. If I would die-“  
  
“Fíli…”  
  
“Nephew…”  
  
Fíli ignored them both. “Then I would die being married to Bofur. As I said to him today, I want to spend the rest of my life married to him.”

Dáin sighed. “It’s not proper.”  
  
“May I be blunt?” Fíli didn’t wait for an answer. “We got engaged after making love on a field full of _flowers_ , after knowing each other for only three months, after singing the most awful song about bees-“  
  
“Bees?” Dáin asked confusedly.  
  
“And the first time I kissed him I almost fell off my pony.” Fíli shook his head. “And I swear on Mahal’s beard that this is the most proper relationship I have had, that I will ever have, and if our wedding is not exactly normal then it will still be normal for us.”

Dáin looked over at Thorin who shrugged. “I’ve already promised them that I would do the ceremony once we reclaimed Erebor. It is only by my oversight-“ he nodded apologetically at Fíli and Bofur both. “-that they are not married already.”

Dáin still looked a bit huffy, so Fíli decided that it was time to try a distraction.

“Perhaps you will have better luck with my brother. He has not yet begun talking about marriage, but we are all expecting that it will happen fairly soon.”

Everything was fair in love and war and weddings.

“He’s _also_ courting someone? Who?”

“Dwalin,” Thorin said with a small shrug. “They’ve been joined by the hip since before Mirkwood. A bit unexpected I must say, but-“ he glanced down at Bilbo. “There have been many unexpected events on this quest.”  
  
“Apparently so,” Dáin said, thoughtfully stroking his beard. “You realise that none of you will get any heirs if you go about it like this?”  
  
Fíli snorted. “My brother would not agree with you. Ask him about eggs.”  
  
“Fíli,” Bilbo said warningly.  
  
“Yes, I still haven’t heard this story,” Thorin said. “What about the eggs?”  
  
“It’s very rude to change the subject when Fíli and Bofur wanted to get married,” Bilbo said pointedly. “Go back to talking about them. And leave me well out of any egg-related topic.”  
  
“The line of Durin will live on in your son,” Fíli said to Dáin. “And in Glóin’s son. And we could still have children. It’s not terribly common, but sometimes there are children who loses both their parents. We could provide a home for them.”  
  
“Unless Kíli and Dwalin get them first,” Bofur smiled.  
  
“I think Kíli had his mind set on going to the Shire to collect baby Hobbits,” Fíli snorted.  
  
“He _what_?” Bilbo asked.  
  
“Only, and I quote: ‘the ones no one else wants’,” Fíli said innocently.  
  
“I’m going to have a talk with that boy,” Bilbo muttered.  
  
“We’re getting further and further away from the subject again,” Thorin said wryly. He turned his head and looked up at Bofur. “We have heard from Fíli, but do you _truly_ wish to marry my nephew? Stop that,” he added when Bilbo tried to elbow him, and failed considering that Thorin couldn’t really have felt it since he was wearing armour.  
  
“It’s not nice to be questioned like that,” Bilbo said archly. “Oh, no offence intended,” he said, glancing over at Dáin.

“I do want to marry him,” Bofur said quietly, and Fíli lifted their hands to press a kiss to the back of Bofur’s. “I do.”  
  
“Then we’re having a wedding,” Thorin nodded. “You can go down to the treasure chambers to find crowns and-“  
  
“Crowns?” Bofur said cautiously, free hand coming up to touch his hat.  
  
“You’re marrying a prince, lad,” Dáin said pointedly. “Yes, crowns. And I’ll get everyone properly organized in the throne room and-”  
  
“I don’t want a crown,” Bilbo murmured to Thorin who looked appalled enough that the Hobbit heaved a huge sigh. “But we can talk about that later.”  
  
“-I’m sure there are instruments around here somewhere and-“  
  
“We still have the chance to elope,” Fíli whispered to Bofur. “I think.”  
  
“But who’s going to marry us then?” Bofur whispered back. “Bit of a flaw in that plan I’ve come to realise.”  
  
“-something in blue for Fíli and something in red for the future prince consort-“  
  
Bofur sighed and shook his head. “Prince consort,” he muttered. “Me.”

“Let’s go find those crowns,” Fíli suggested. “Uncle, you’ll marry us when we come back?”  
  
“I’ll do my best,” Thorin said with a sidewise glance at Dáin who was still making plans.

-  
  
“Thorin probably doesn’t want to upset Dáin since it’s either him or mum who’ll have to do his ceremony with Bilbo,” Fíli mused. “And mum would likely seize the opportunity to blackmail him into something. Oh, how about this one?” The blond held up an intricately crafted crown made of silver and emeralds.  
  
“Bit flimsy isn’t it?” Bofur said sceptically. “And why do you have so many crowns lying around anyway. There’s not been this many kings I’m sure.”  
  
“I guess people enjoy making crowns? How about this?” Silver and amber.  
  
“Never liked amber very much.” Bofur huffed out a laugh. “What am I doing, it’s not like it matters. That one’s fine.”  
  
“It matters,” Fíli protested.  
  
“I’m only going to be wearing that thing for however long I absolutely have to.”  
  
“But Ori is going to write about it, do you want to be described as having an amber and silver crown when you secretly hate amber?”

“It doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Then I’ll pick one for you.” Fíli had already found one that he liked for himself. Gold and amethyst. A tad on the heavy side, but not too heavy to be uncomfortable, and he liked the bold knot work pattern on its sides. “Anything other than amber you don’t like?”  
  
“It doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Now you’re just being difficult,” Fíli teased. He snickered at Bofur’s cross look and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him in for a kiss. “Gold for you as well,” Fíli deliberated between kisses. “But perhaps peridots, or emeralds, opals. No, _citrines_.” Fíli pulled back to look at his soon to be husband. “That’s all right? I mean, they’re a bit similar to amber but-“  
  
Bofur’s hand cupped the back of Fíli’s head and hauled him in for another kiss. “It’s fine. You keep kissing me and I’ll wear whatever you want.”  
  
“I’m looking forward to you not wearing very much at all,” Fíli murmured. “Though I imagine you’d look lovely in _just_ a crown.”

“Not nearly as lovely as you,” Bofur said, brushing a lock of Fíli’s hair away from his face. “So, find me that crown then so we can get married.”  
  
-  
  
In the end it wasn’t a crown as much as it was a circlet, but not one of the flimsy Elven circlets. No, this was a sturdy band of gold, and it did have a large citrine set into the front.

The throne room was filled with the Dwarfs in Dáin’s army, and of course with the Company, (and Ori’s thrush) and even Gandalf had shown up, (everyone had long since stopped being surprised at unexpected appearances from him) but Fíli only had eyes for Bofur; who looked endearingly nervous, and heart wrenchingly lovely. He’d combed his hair and braided it neatly, and Fíli’s fingers itched with the desire to mess it up. They’d not changed clothes, because Dáin had to admit defeat on that account after realising that moths had gnawed away at everything suitable, but that didn’t matter. There'd never been anyone looking more handsome than Bofur did in that moment.

“We are gathered here to witness the marriage of Fíli, son of Dís, to Bofur, son of Bomfur,” Thorin declared, his voice carrying even to the farthest ends of the room. “As our path led us here, their paths led them to each other. And as we now stand here, in Erebor reclaimed, they now stand here, about to reclaim the pieces of themselves that were misplaced before they found each other.”

Bilbo had found a handkerchief somewhere and was dabbing at his eyes with it. Bifur was dabbing his eyes with his beard, but whatever worked, worked. Bombur’s eyes were also looking suspiciously wet, but so far he managed without any dabbing. Kíli, in contrast, was grinning broadly where he stood nestled beneath Dwalin's arm.  
  
Thorin nodded to Fíli and the blond held out his hands for Bofur to take. No hand was entirely steady as they twined their fingers together.  
   
“I love what I know of you, and what I do not yet know,” Fíli said as he looked into Bofur’s eyes. “I want to grow old with you, with who you will become. And whatever happens, I’ll never stop loving you.”  
  
Bofur smiled shakily, blinking a few time before speaking. “Every day I love you a little more than before. In times of plenty and in times of want, in times of joy and in times of sorrow. In times of failure and in times of triumph. I’ll never stop loving you.”  
  
“After this day, and for all the Ages to come, they will be whole,” Thorin called out. “Two forged into one.”

“You’re crying,” Bofur whispered, and Fíli blinked his eyes, realising that yes he was.  
  
“It’s- good,” Fíli said, unable to explain what he was feeling. Instead he leaned forward, and Bofur met him halfway, for their first, but certainly not last, kiss as a wedded couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sniffles into tissue* 
> 
> My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,  
> By just exchange one for the other given:  
> I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;  
> There never was a bargain better driven.  
> His heart in me keeps me and him in one,  
> My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides;  
> He loves my heart for once it was his own;  
> I cherish his because in me it bides.  
> His heart his wound received from my sight;  
> My heart was wounded with his wounded heart;  
> For as from me on him his hurt did light,  
> So still methought in me his hurt did smart:  
> Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss,  
> My true love hath my heart and I have his.  
> ~Sir Philip Sidney


	96. Interlude - Two Cuties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Kíli/Dwalin interlude and my brain was totally at a loss for a chapter title. If you think of something that's better (and it shouldn't be that hard) do let me know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hello, the formatting thing has changed. *waves at formatting thing* Oh, and my spell check kicks in now, awesome. ^^
> 
> Just a short one. And I think the next bit will basically be pre-battle/battle. *clutches pearls* But it will be okay, promise.

“That was wonderful,” Kíli said, leaning more heavily against Dwalin as Fíli and Bofur walked away, hand in hand, and he would just not think about what his brother probably would be doing in a few minutes, no thank you. “But can we not have one like this? Not with all the people around. Thorin can just witness it and then we’re done.”  
  
“Whatever you want,” Dwalin said, torn between wanting everyone to see how he was the one Kíli had picked, and really agreeing with his lover about how there should not be a hall full of people watching them get married. Sadly, there was no way to combine both those conflicting urges into one ceremony.   
  
“I think you better have a word with Lord Dáin about that,” Nori murmured from their left. “I heard him talking about how the other prince’s wedding would be a _much_ grander affair. And there’s not a lot of princes around that he could have been talking about.”  
  
“Right,” Kíli said. “So let’s _not_ do that. He can marry his son to someone if he feels the urge to plan a wedding.”  
  
“Or your uncle?" Nori suggested. “One Thorin or another, eh? Though I’m not sure what Bilbo will agree to. And if anyone can out-stubborn the Lord of the Iron Hills, I think that would be our burglar. Which would leave Dáin all the more eager to get you properly wedded since you’d be the only one left of the royal family.”  
  
“Don’t you think Bilbo will want a big wedding?” Kíli asked hopefully. “Hobbits seem to be rather particular about how to do things, sure, but they also seem the kind to enjoy a good party. Bilbo has told me about how they celebrate birthdays and those parties are not exactly small. Maybe he won’t mind?”

Nori patted Kíli on the shoulder. “Keep on thinking that, lad, keep on thinking that.”  
  
Kíli looked up at Dwalin. “What if whatever I want is to run away and have my mum marry us, somewhere far away from Dáin?”  
  
Dwalin was just about to confirm that whatever Kíli wanted was still all right when:  
  
“Prince Kíli,” Dáin said from behind them, sounding very disapproving.   
  
Kíli’s shoulders slumped and he tucked himself even closer to Dwalin’s side. “Crap,” he muttered.  
  
“I could not help but overhear part of your conversation. Because of our current circumstances your brother cannot marry in a manner that is entirely fitting, but there is a world of difference between accepting not entirely optimal circumstances and deliberately-  
  
“I’m sorry,” Kíli said. “But I don’t want a big wedding.”  
  
“If he doesn’t want a big wedding, then he shouldn’t have to have a big wedding,” Dwalin said, meeting Dáin’s stern look with one of his own.  
  
Nori discretely slipped away as no one was paying any attention to him.  
  
Dáin did not let Dwalin intimidate him. Shame.   
  
“Bofur seems like a nice lad, certainly someone who will be good for Fíli, but he’s hardly someone a prince would normally have married. And while Bilbo most definitely seems like a suitable match for Thorin he’s not even a Dwarf, and I don’t even think he has a craft. No one expects-“

“Hey, Bilbo is like a prince too!” Kíli protested.  
  
“Really?” Dáin asked, brows raising in surprise. “Like a prince in what way exactly?”  
  
“Well, you should ask him, or Bofur, though don’t ask Bofur right now, but Bilbo’s grandfather is like the king of the Hobbits.”

Dáin looked to Dwalin and he shrugged. “So Kíli tells me, I don’t know anything else. I’ve not asked. Not like it matters.”  
  
“Well that certainly puts a different spin on things,” Dáin mused. “But be that as it may, you are both of the line of Durin. Kíli is third in line to the throne, a prince. And despite how you present yourself, Dwalin, you are a lord, even if you do not have your own realm.”  
  
“How he-“ Kíli bristled. “Dwalin presents himself perfectly. All the time.”  
  
“He does not act like a lord should,” Dáin argued. “He-“  
  
“Is standing right here,” Dwalin said drily. “Dáin is right in that I’m a warrior before I am any sort of lord, but there wasn’t need for many lords in Ered Luin. Perhaps the Iron Hills are organized differently?”  
  
Dáin’s expression froze somewhat. “I don’t appreciate what you’re insinuating.”  
  
“Well, right back at you,” Dwalin shrugged. “Tell you what, cousin. If we’re all alive in a week, we’ll have this conversation again. But until we know that we’ll be, I don’t much see the point of it. No one is going to expect that we act in a certain way if we’re dead. At least not in a way that is related to weddings.”  
  
Satisfied with the sullen nod he received from Dáin Dwalin turned to Kíli, and his heart fell when he saw the sad look on his lover’s face.  
  
“Kíli?”  
  
“No, you’re right,” Kíli said, trying to smile. “It doesn’t matter what we do right now. Not really.”  
  
“Excuse us,” Dwalin said to Dáin, not bothering to look at him, and then he took Kíli by the hand and pulled him along as they left the throne room.   
  
-  
  
“It’s all right, Dwalin,” Kíli promised. “I guess I just forgot it for a moment. What could happen tomorrow. Or the day after that.” He sighed, and his small smile turned wistful. “I guess I’m even more happy for Fíli and Bofur now, that they got to have this.”  
  
“We can get married right now if you want to,” Dwalin said, and Kíli looked confused.  
  
“What?”  
  
“If it would make you happy.”  
  
“Of course I would be happy to marry you, but it doesn’t really matter.”  
  
Dwalin looked pained and he reached out a hand to cup Kíli’s cheek. “Of course it matters.”  
  
“No, I mean, I’m happy not being married. Or married. As long as I get to have you in my life it doesn’t really matter. Oh,” Kíli blinked. “I didn’t even really ask you, if you wanted to get married. Do you?”  
  
“Of course I do,” Dwalin growled.  
  
“And you’re not just saying that to make me happy?”  
  
Dwalin looked down into big, brown eyes, looking hopefully up at him and snorted. “I’m not, but to be entirely honest, if I didn’t want to marry you, I probably would say I wanted to indeed make you happy.”  
  
Kíli frowned. “Now I don’t know what to think.”  
  
“I love you,” Dwalin promised, leaning in to kiss the slight pout away. “That you can always count on.”  
  
“Hmmm,” Kíli murmured. “Good, because I love you too. But I don’t think we should get married right now. After all, I won't love you any less if we never get married.”  
  
“I can think of something we can do instead,” Dwalin said throatily, placing his hands on the small dip in Kíli’s waist.  
  
“Me too,” Kíli smiled, and Dwalin much preferred that spark in his eyes compared to a forlorn look. “Let’s go and find the best armour for tomorrow, so we can kill as many Orcs as we have to!”  
  
Dwalin blinked and let Kíli drag him towards the treasure chambers. “Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd not be surprised if they totally ended up sleeping together in the treasure chamber though. Only to realise that gold is bloody uncomfortable. And cold. And your feet keep slipping in the coins and wrecking any sort of rhythm. 
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, and my big bang is now +20k. *excited and scared*


	97. The Sword Is Sharp, The Spear Is Long,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time.

Fíli woke up in Bofur’s arms, and for a long moment he merely stayed there and listened to his husband’s even and steady breaths. His husband. They were married now, and come what may, he would always have had that. He would have had Bofur’s love, and the honour of being his husband.

They could only have slept a few hours at most, and it was likely not yet dawn or someone would have come to wake them, to get ready for the battle that was sure to come.  
  
Pressing a kiss against Bofur’s shoulder Fíli then gently extricated himself, wanting to let Bofur sleep for as long as possible.

The blond entered the big chamber that had been picked as a dorm, and found that the others were still sleeping as well, Thorin wrapped around Bilbo, Kíli sleeping on top of Dwalin, and the others spread out over the room, but not too far from each other. Oh, but one was not sleeping. Bifur nodded to him from his place on top of a sturdy looking dresser.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” Fíli said quietly to Bifur. “I’m just going out to the battlements.”  
  
Bifur nodded again, and then he grinned, pointing to his neck . Fíli squinted, but he didn’t see anything on Bifur’s neck. The other Dwarf grinned widened and nodded at Fíli.  
  
“I’ve got something on my- “?” Fíli flinched as he touched his hand to his neck, the skin was tender and he spent a few awkward moments trying to look down at his own throat before he realised what it was. Last night Bofur had been a little more… nibbly than normal.

Fíli felt a slight blush rise to his cheek, which was unfair. He was married now, shouldn’t that mean that love bites would get less embarrassing? And okay, fine, he wasn’t entirely sure what the logic behind that statement was, but _still_.  
  
Head held high, and ignoring Bifur’s almost silent snickering, Fíli marched towards the stairs that would take him up upon the battlements.

Dawn had indeed not yet passed, but it was approaching, appearing as a thin golden line on the horizon, and Fíli took a deep breath, drawing the slightly chilly air into his lungs and letting it fill him.

The first time he remembered seeing a sunrise was when he’d been 22. He and Kíli had been hunting with Thorin, or so Thorin had claimed. He’d not let either of them as much as touch a bow or blade, and instead they’d made traps that succeeded in catching absolutely nothing. But it had been fun. Even when it had started to rain it had been fun.

They’d made camp beneath a huge tree -Thorin telling them that if they heard thunder they needed to tell him immediately, and as the grey-blue light of dusk turned into night (the clouds were too thick to see the sun set) Thorin had bundled them all up in blankets, giving them bits of bread and cheese and telling them that clearly they all needed to practice hunting more as they weren’t now dining on freshly roasted meat.

The rain had stopped sometime after Fíli had fallen asleep with Kíli curled into his side and drooling slightly on his arm, because when he woke up it was to the sight of a luminous moon hanging just over the horizon . As soon as he began wriggling his way out of the blankets Thorin opened his eyes, hand already going to his sword. He relaxed again as soon as he saw that it had only been Fíli moving around.  
  
“Go back to sleep,” Thorin murmured. “It’ll be morning soon enough, and we’ll need to head back before your parents think I’ve allowed you to be eaten by bears.”  
  
“But I want to watch the moon,” Fíli protested.  
  
“Shh,” Thorin admonished when Kíli stirred slightly. “Don’t wake your brother.”  
  
“I want to watch the moon,” Fíli repeated, whispering now. “I’m not sleepy anymore.”  
  
“Come here then,” Thorin said. “No, put your blanket over your brother. My coat will keep us warm enough.”  
  
Fíli had snuggled up against Thorin’s side and his uncle tucked the coat around them both.  
  
It was interesting to see the moon move over the sky. It wasn’t particularly fast, and when you looked at it, it didn’t really look to be moving, but if you looked away, and then looked back, it had always fallen a little closer to the horizon.  
  
“It looks like it’s going to crash into the ground,” Fíli had murmured and Thorin had chuckled slightly.  
  
“Yes a little, but I promise you that it’s not going to.”  
  
As soon as the white circle dipped below the dark line of the landscape in front of them, a splotch of reddish gold appeared on the small puffs of clouds just to the right of the pale circle. It quickly grew, and grew, and the gold spread out over the horizon as the first rays of light burst out.  
  
“Don’t look directly at it,” Thorin murmured.  
  
“Uh huh,” Fíli agreed, looking directly at the rising sun.  
  
Thorin’s hand coming down to cover his eyes was not appreciated, and his protests were loud enough to wake Kíli, a Kíli who was very grumpy about both being woken up, and also about not being woken up earlier because it was not fair that Fíli got to do something that he didn’t.

It had been a wonderful morning.

Only months later Fíli’s father had died, and it had been a long, long time before their mother allowed them to leave her sight for more than a few hours, and before _they_ stopped feeling that she might disappear if they could not see her, and during that time there’d been no more hunting trips with Thorin.

Sighing Fíli looked at the ever thickening line of gold (shouldn’t it be red on a day like this?) and then he turned to head inside again.  
  
Morning had dawned, and with it, the start of the battle for Erebor.  
  
-  
  
Dressing in armour was not something unusual, but Fíli had never done it as a preparation to head into battle, and even though Fíli hadn’t even been born at the time of the Battle of Azanulbizar it was impossible not to think of that day now.

The battle of Azanulbizar had irreversibly changed the lives of almost every Dwarf on Middle earth, with the exception of the ones living in the mountain ranges in Harad as they had not joined it, had not considered themselves part of the war against the Orcs.  
  
But many had. And many of those who had fought the Orcs had died, those who had not knew someone who did. And even those like Fíli, who had not yet been born, had grown up with the want of those they would not meet until everyone was reunited and with Mahal in the halls of Mandos, to wait for the end of everything. For Fíli the person was his uncle Frerin.

He’d often heard that they were much alike, he and the uncle he’d never gotten to meet. Both in looks and in temper, and he hoped that was not an ill omen. At the same time he could think of worse ways to die than protecting the ones he loved, and he thought that uncle Frerin would have agreed with him.

One day, hopefully far, _far_ into the future, he would be king, and then there would be other ways for him to protect those sworn to him, ways that would not require blood to be spilt, but at this moment, he had his swords and his knives, and he would use them to kill as many Orcs as he could, and keep Erebor safe for their people.  
  
It was not just the mountain they protected, it was the future, and the past. Mount Gundabad had been lost, as had Khazad-dûm. They would not allow Erebor to be taken by the Orcs so soon after it had been reclaimed. Even if it came at a terrible cost. 

“I’ve not regretted a moment I’ve spent with you,” Fíli murmured to Bofur as his love fitted his helmet over his hat. The picture that presented brought a smile to Fíli’s face even considering the circumstances. “Not even when you’ve accused me of being daft, nor when you still seemed to favour your hat more than you did me.”  
  
“Well the hat never tried to suggest that we’d sleep together without bothering to make it more than that,” Bofur said drily, and Fíli huffed out a soft laugh.  
  
“You must admit, I did come to see the error of my ways, husband.”  
  
Bofur’s green eyes softened and he leaned in to kiss Fíli, managing only to knock their helmets together with a fairly loud bang.

“If we both pucker our lips, we might be able to kiss,” Fíli suggested.

“Daft,” Bofur said with an exaggerated sigh. “My daft prince.”

“Your daft _husband_ ,” Fíli corrected.  
  
“That too,” Bofur agreed, fingers brushing softly over Fíli’s lips. “Come on now, we should join up with the others. The scouts are going to ride out soon, and I want to speak to Bombur and Bifur.”  
  
Fíli nodded and reached up to straighten his husband’s helmet. “Let’s go then.”  


-  
  
There weren’t really anything he could say to his brother that he’d not already said a thousand times, and when he met Kíli’s eyes he knew that he felt the same. Embracing while both wearing full armour was a clunky sort of affair, but Fíli thought that they managed fairly well all things considered.  
  
“I’m going to see you married as well,” Fíli murmured. “So don’t do anything foolish.”  
  
“Actually, Dwalin and I were considering eloping. Wouldn’t today be a perfect day for it?”  
  
Instead of replying Fíli just squeezed Kíli tighter.  
  
-  
  
He didn’t know what to say to Thorin. Thanking him would be so final. Saying nothing would be ungrateful. In the end, Fíli ignored how he was now a grown-up, married Dwarf and threw his arms around the older Dwarf, whispering: “I love you, uncle Thorin.”  
  
“And I you,” Thorin mumbled. “Be safe. Fight on your terms and not theirs.”  
  
“I’ll make you proud,” Fíli promised, and Thorin nudged Fíli’s head up so that their eyes met.  
  
“I’m already proud.”  
  
-  
  
Fíli would never be able to say for sure just how long the battle for Erebor had raged. Not long enough for the sun to set, but it felt like weeks even so. When they battle had begun, the Company had fought side by side, back to back, but it had proved impossible to stay together. One by one, they’d lost sight of each other, and when Fíli suddenly found a moment to breathe he realised that he was alone. Or not alone, as there were both Elves and Men around him, as well as a couple of Dáin’s Dwarfs, but he couldn’t see anyone from the Company. 

Until suddenly he did, and it was the one member he’d least expected to see. For a moment Bilbo appeared in the middle of the battle field, before just as suddenly disappearing once more.  
  
“Bilbo!” Fíli cried, ducking beneath the incoming swing from an axe-wielding Orc. “Thorin is going to kill you if you die.”  
  
There was no reply, and Fíli cursed, ignored the Elf who was looking at him as if he was insane, and skewered the Orc on his sword at the exact same moment an arrow lodged in its forehead.  
  
Thorin and Bilbo had had a discussion about Bilbo’s participation in the battle, one which Thorin could be said to have won as Bilbo had promised him that he would not join the fighting. But he had not agreed to wait inside Erebor’s walls as Thorin had wanted, and instead had opted to with the Elven healers to try and help them with the wounded.  
  
And now he had apparently opted not to.  
  
It was impossible to try and follow the invisible Hobbit, so all Fíli could to was to ask Mahal to please watch over even the hopelessly stubborn Hobbits because if he didn’t then so many of his children would be grieved.  
  
It seemed that for each and every Orc he cut down, two more came instead and as Fíli’s arms began to ache, and his breath only seemed to be able to come in harsh pants, he wondered if he would make it. If they would make it. Or if this would be-  
  
A great roar almost distracted him enough to get brained by a nasty looking club, wielded by an equally nasty looking Orc, but a well-placed arrow from a redheaded Elf spared him that fate and he nodded to her in thanks before turning towards the source of the noise.  
  
A great bear swept down with its might paw and swept three Orcs off their feet. Beorn, Fíli realised. Somehow the shape shifter had joined the battle, helping to even the odds ever so slightly in their favour. It must have been Gandalf who had gotten word to him somehow, and Fíli wondered where the Wizard even was. Couldn’t he just do what he’d done in the Goblin caves and blind the Orcs? The rest of them could just, close their eyes or something.

“Prince Fíli!”  
  
Fíli blinked, looking around himself the best as he could and not get himself killed in the attempt. He did not expect the view that met him.  
  
“Prince Fíli!” Tiny Tim waved at him, tall enough that he stuck out even amongst the Orcs and Elves, and how by Mahal’s beard hadn’t he gotten himself killed already? He wasn’t even wearing a helmet. “You are not wielding your axe?”  
  
Was the Man actually going to try small talk in the middle of a battle?  
  
“My swords serve me well enough,” Fíli called back.  
  
Tiny Tim nonchalantly swung the big steel spear that he was holding, and much like Beorn had, he swept a couple of Orcs off their feet.  
  
“And I see your weapon suits you as well," Fíli added.  
  
“Where is your kin, Prince Fíli?”  
  
Fíli couldn’t answer, he was busy trying not to die as two Orcs came at him at once, and when he’d managed to dispose of them Tiny Tim was gone. Or so Fíli thought.  
  
“Prince Fíli?”  
  
Fíli would not admit to almost getting scared to death in a battle for his life. He would not.  
  
“May I help you find your kin?” Tiny Tim asked, suddenly standing about an inch away, and for someone so big he moved very quietly.  
  
“How would you do that?” Fíli asked, pushing at his helm so that it wouldn’t get in the way of looking up at the very tall Man.  
  
“Well, have you seen any Orcs with bows?”  
  
“No?” Fíli actually had not, but what did that have to do with-  
  
-  
  
A mere minute later Fíli was perched on the Man’s shoulder, (the view really was excellent) looking around to try and find-

“ _Thorin_!” Fíli shouted, eyes wide in horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, but my day sucked, and now I cliffhangered. *sighs and pulls blanket over head* 
> 
> /muffled voice, from beneath the blanket/ _remember the tags_


	98. Battle Of The Five Armies (Depending On How You Define 'Army')

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a new chapter :O

The moment Bilbo heard a wounded Man say that he'd seen the Dwarven king pull a knife out of his own shoulder as if it was nothing, and then throw it at an approaching Orc, the Hobbit was moving towards the battlefield, hands scrambling to get his ring.  
  
In a way it was like the first time he’d gone running after Thorin and the others, only now his heart wasn’t filled with panic, a sense of exhilaration, and a sense that he was forgetting something.

Now it was just panic, more panic, and quite a bit of fear that would have been enough to paralyse him had not the panic made his feet _more_ than capable to run. Oh, and there was also some panic.  
  
Thorin was hurt. Thorin could _not_ be hurt. Being hurt could mean being hurt badly and being hurt badly could mean being hurt _very_ badly and that- no. A knife in the shoulder… who knew what more could have happened since then.

No, no, no. Thorin could not be hurt.  
  
But if he was hurt then he needed Bilbo. He'd saved him once before, from Orcs even. He could do it again. He _would_ do it again, if it was needed. Which it wasn’t, because Thorin was fine. He had to be fine. But Bilbo was just going to make sure. And then this stupid battle would end, and they would have a long talk about just exactly who should stay with the Elven healers during the next battle (which hopefully would _never_ happen).  
  
Okay, so no one should stay with the Elven healers because Thorin would probably just disturb them in their work. But they’d talk about it, sort it out.  
  
Bilbo swallowed and looked around fighting going on all around him.  
  
He just needed to find Thorin first.

-  
  
Kíli looked admiringly at a redheaded Elf as she neatly cleaved an Orc’s head from his body, and he scoffed scornfully as a blonde one jumped up to _stand_ on the head of another Orc, the head still attached to its very much alive body. The Elf whirled her swords and, okay, that was pretty effective, because she took out to nearby Orcs and the one that tried to strike at her ended up braining the first Orc as the Elf had already moved away but still! It was much too showy. And a clear waste of time.  
  
“She’s a bit full of herself that blonde one,” Kíli said to Dwalin who grunted out a half-laugh as he knocked the blunt end of one of his axes into the head of a Warg.  
  
“She’s a _he_. You _really_ can’t tell the difference between them, can you?”  
  
Kíli squinted. “Are we sure that there is a difference? I’ve never seen a baby Elf, maybe…” Kíli’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, maybe they’re the ones with the eggs? Only not eggs, but something like it. And that’s why you never see any babies.”  
  
"This is not the time for this discussion," Dwalin said with a sigh.  
  
It was quite possible that the time would never be right for that discussion.  
  
-  


It was not a miracle that allowed Bilbo to walk through the battle field safely, it was thousands of miracles. He did not know where he was going, and he was too distraught with the thought of Thorin being injured to really thread with any particular care.  
  
Sure, the invisibility brought by the ring protected him well enough from those who would have tried to cut him down on purpose, but it couldn’t protect him from those who would _not_ have meant to harm him. If just a single Elven arrow had been knocked astray that could have been the end for the little Hobbit. Still, he walked through it all unharmed, well, physically at least.  
  
Just like the previous times he had worn the ring the world was a little more grey than usual, a little less… _there_.  
  
Bilbo knew that the noise from the battle around him should be louder than it really was to his ears, it had been loud enough from the healing tents and now that he was in the midst of it, it should be _deafening_ , but it wasn’t. And shouldn’t the sun feel hotter against his skin? Though perhaps that was just the choking, chilling fear that spread through his veins for every minute that he did not find his Dwarf.  
  
But even so, the entire experience felt a little like Bilbo imagined drowning would. Muted and cold and with a sense that whatever happened it was inevitable. Removing the ring was not an option though. The one time he’d tried it had also been like drowning, only now in noise, and the smell of blood, and the stink of something foul that could either be death or just the Orcs, but Bilbo wanted nothing to do with it whatever it was. Not to mention that he really didn’t want the Orcs and Wargs to see him, so he'd quickly slipped it back onto his finger again.  
  
The closest he’d been to a battle before the journey to Erebor was either the conkers games that Thorin had huffed scornfully about (and now Bilbo had a better idea of why he’d done so, even if it had still been _very_ rude of him) or perhaps the times when there’d been only one sweetroll left on the plate, and everyone gathered around the table was in the mood for another one.  
  
That usually didn’t end with bloodshed though, not that often anyway. (Mostly because it was very rarely that there was only one sweetroll left, everyone with a lick of sense made _plenty_.)  
  
Bilbo wasn’t even sure if they were winning or losing the battle, but regardless, he needed to find Thorin.

“Thorin!”  
  
No one answered. No one seemed to hear him. And he didn’t know where to look. Getting to higher ground seemed reasonable enough so Bilbo headed towards the slopes of the mountain, hoping that it would allow him to see Thorin, or one of the others, because everyone around him was much too tall and much too unfamiliar.  
  
It was only after almost running into the swing of an axe that the wielder seemed to have lost control of about the same time he lost his hand that Bilbo remembered that he had his own sword strapped to his side.  
  
As he pulled it out of its sheath it glowed a brilliant blue, as blue as the sky wasn’t when Bilbo looked up at it and Bilbo lost himself for a moment staring down at the Elven blade. Only for a moment though, because he had more sense than to stand around on a battlefield and gawk at magical swords, no matter how pretty they were.  
  
He couldn’t believe that he’d let himself be convinced into being separated from Thorin in the first place. Where had his common sense been when he’d agreed to that?!  
  
So what if he didn’t really have any combat experience, how had combat experience helped Thorin from not being gnawed on by a Warg and being carried away by a giant spider? That's right, it hadn’t!  
  
Bilbo on the other hand had almost been able to talk three Trolls out of eating his companions (let’s ignore how he was the first one who had been caught as that had simply been bad luck and a bad case of sniffles on the Troll’s part). He’d saved Thorin from… from something that Bilbo preferred not to think about up on that cliff, and oh, before that he’d gotten away from whatever that pale being down in the caves had been, without needing to kill it no less. And before he’d fallen down into that cave he’d been doing a pretty could job of holding his own against that Goblin. Also, let’s not forget how he’d saved everyone from the spiders and then gotten the Company away from the Elves, and he’d faced a Dragon _alone_.  
  
Clearly Thorin didn’t know what he was talking about when he thought that Bilbo should stay with the healers. Clearly Bilbo had been out of his mind when he’d agreed.  
  
While his mother had known a fair bit about healing, Bilbo didn’t think that the bits and pieces he remember really would benefit anyone at the moment. Though Bilbo would very much like a bit of a calming draught for himself to put in a nice cup of tea to help with his frazzled nerves.  
  
He was so stupid letting Thorin talk him into something like this just because he’d looked so very prettily and earnestly at him and told him that he should stay in Erebor. Somehow it had gone from an instant denial of that to agreeing to stay away from the actual fighting and stick to the healing tents and Bilbo blamed Thorin’s pretty eyes for all of it and some.  
  
He’d wear a blindfold next time the subject was brought up (the next time that wouldn’t happen) because his place was with Thorin. No matter what.  
  
If only he could find him.  
  
-  
  
Dwalin bared his teeth in a snarl at the Orc. The Orc snarled back. Then suddenly there was an arrow sticking out of its forehead and it slumped to the ground.  
  
“Don’t waste your arrows,” Dwalin barked at Kíli.  
  
“Then kill the damned things instead of staring at them,” Kíli shot back, slinging the bow back over his shoulder and drawing his sword again in a smooth motion. “It’s not like they’re pretty to look at.”  
  
“You don’t say,” Dwalin growled.  
  
“I do!” Kíli called, ducking beneath a sword’s blow that had Dwalin’s heart lodging somewhere in the vicinity of his throat, but the bald Dwarf just swallowed and swung his axes at the closest Orc. No time to get distracted. Only time to fight.  
  
This time they couldn’t run from the bastards, and there was no Wizard who’d come and lure them away with the help of rabbits, nothing else to do but to fight, and fight well.  
  
Most people would probably have thought that Dwalin liked it that way, and in a way, they’d be right. He enjoyed a good fight, the feeling of being so incredibly alive since each swing, each strike, each moment might just be your last. The feeling of satisfaction after you kill an opponent that much bigger than you. The feeling of justice as another Orc fell to the dusty ground.

 Even so, very few of those who had lived through the battle of Azanulbizar longed for a repeat of that day, and if given a choice then Dwalin would much prefer to be dragged into bed by Kíli as a method to get his heart racing and his blood pumping.  
  
As it was not the time for that type of distractions either Dwalin shook his head to clear away the stray thought and when that did not work, bit the inside of his cheek, letting the pain clear his head.  
  
Only time for fighting now.  
  
-

This was just the sort of thing his mum had warned him about. Okay, not really. Because she hadn’t actually said anything about not following a king in exile on quest involving a Dragon, (even if promised free beer) nor had she made any comments about falling in love with an adorably daft prince and marrying him and then somehow losing track of him in a battle, and she _also_ hadn’t said _anything_ about not joining a battle when the odds were roughly ten Orcs for every Dwarf, Man or Elf, (and that wasn’t even counting the Wargs). 

What his mother _had_ said though was that Bofur was not to do anything stupid and that he should look after his brother.  
  
Bofur quietly apologised to his mother and straightened his helmet for the thousandth time. He’d done a lot of stupid things lately but none of them had involved Fíli and he was _not_ going to lose him so soon after finding him. And to be sure of that he would… need to find him. Right. Good plan.  
  
“Bombur!” Bofur called. “I need to find Fíli!”  
  
“Then go find him!” Bombur called back as he whirled around cutting down Orcs left and right. “But don't think I'm not coming with you! Bifur! Let’s go! Bofur didn’t have the sense to marry someone taller than him and now he’s misplaced him!”  
  
-  
  
“You know, it’s pretty lucky that Orcs are so crappy at strategy,” Kíli shouted, calling Dwalin’s attention as well as the attention of half a dozen Orcs and Dwalin cursed beneath his breath. “Perhaps it’s because they never clean their teeth.”  
  
“What?” the blond Elf asked, tilting his (or was it her) head in question.  
  
“Well, if they never clean their teeth then the teeth rot, and the mouth and brain are very close together you know.”  
  
“You don’t say,” Dwalin murmured, knowing that Kíli’s mouth and brain worked at pretty much the same speed and that was why his lover often said things that perhaps would have benefitted from another moment’s contemplation.  
  
Mahal’s hammer how he loved him.  
  
For a moment their gazes met and Kíli flashed a bright grin at him. Then they were both drawn back into the battle but the smile filled Dwalin’s chest and made his axes fly that much quicker.  


-

  
Sunset came out of nowhere. Or rather, the same place at it always did which was the west. At roughly the same time too.  
  
Bilbo blinked as he realised that without him noticing it had gotten rather dark. Night was still a while away, but evening had most definitely snuck upon them as the sun hung low on the horizon. The sky was no longer the wrong shade of blue, but the wrong shades of orange, red and pink.  
  
The battle still raged, and Bilbo hadn’t found Thorin, or anyone from the Company. He’d seen Beorn at one point, but the Man; or bear rather, hadn’t seen him. Beorn had been very busy decimating all the Orcs around him and Bilbo hadn’t wanted to disturb him by shouting, and trying to get close had seemed like a foolish idea indeed, for a great many number of reasons.  
  
Bilbo was just contemplating to go back to higher ground when he heard a voice that made all the hair on his head attempt to uncurl and rise. _Azog_.  
  
No, no, no. Bilbo didn’t want to be anywhere near that, that, monster if he could help it. He-  
  
“Azog!” Thorin called and Bilbo stopped as suddenly as if he’d walked into the spider webs from Mirkwood.  
  
No. No, no, _no_.  
  
He spun around and desperately tried to see just where – _there_!  
  
A familiar flash of dark hair threaded with silver and Bilbo rushed towards it, ducking and weaving between the other combatants, needing to get to Thorin.

Now they were also going to have a talk about calling the attention of people (were Orcs really people?) that you _really_ shouldn’t try and get the attention of. And Thorin was getting grounded. Fine, he probably wouldn’t want to leave Erebor anyway in a good long while, but it was the _principle_ of the matter.

When Bilbo got to where he’d seen Thorin, the Dwarf was no longer there and the Hobbit let out an uncharacteristically nasty curse and renewed the promise of grounding his lover.  
  
“ _Thorin_!” someone who sounded like Fíli suddenly called, but Bilbo cared less about the caller's identity compared to the note of _terror_ in his voice.  
  
Moving quicker than even Lobelia did if she saw a silver spoon left unattended Bilbo ran in the direction the shout had come from.

  
-  
  
Fíli clung to Tiny Tim’s shoulders as the Man strode towards Thorin. Only, not only towards Thorin; towards Thorin and _Azog_ , because his uncle was fighting the pale Orc, none of them appearing to be concerned with the battle still on-going around them.  
  
A huge mistake on Thorin’s part as Azog’s white Warg was about to pounce on him from behind.  
  
“Thorin!” Fíli yelled again, realising that he might just prove to be the distraction his uncle _didn’t_ need, but if the Warg wasn’t stopped then it might not matter anyway.  
  
However it was all moot because Thorin didn’t seem to hear him anyway.  
  
“KING THORIN!” Tiny Tim bellowed, and Fíli winced and just barely avoided clutching at his aching ears as that would have meant falling down. “LOOK OUT FOR THE WA- what?“  
  
The Warg had been about to spring itself onto Thorin’s back when suddenly it stiffened.  
  
-  
  
“You’re not going to touch him,” Bilbo hissed at the Warg as the beast’s remaining eye glazed over. The Hobbit yanked at the sword to try and pull it out of the Warg’s skull but when it wouldn’t come he simply left it and turned his attention back to Thorin, who had also managed to lose his sword in the few moments since Bilbo looked away.  
  
Oh they were going to have _such_ a long talk.  
  
Taking in the situation, from the satisfied smirk on Azog’s face to Thorin’s defiant expression Bilbo took a deep breath and ran.  
  
It worked last time, he thought as he threw himself at the white Orc.  
  
-  
  
Thorin blinked as Azog was suddenly no longer standing in front of him. The Orc had been about to swing his battle mace only to end up on the ground? Something about that - while very convenient for Thorin - didn’t seem entirely normal.  
  
Then Thorin heard a familiar voice raised in pain.  
  
“Bilbo?”  
  
-  
  
Orcs really were not comfortable to land on, Bilbo had time to realise before he was plucked up by the hair and dangled in front of Azog’s face as the Orc sat up. The Orc said something that Bilbo didn’t understand, but the smell of his breath was foul enough. Still not quite as bad as the pain radiating out from his scalp and Bilbo couldn’t help but yelp when Azog shook him slightly.  
  
“Bilbo?” Thorin asked from behind them, proving that Bilbo was most likely invisible still as Thorin wouldn’t otherwise sound that questioning, and also proving that the talk he was going to have with Thorin just got another section called: Things To Do When Your Enemy Is Distracted Which Do Not Include Asking Stupid Question.  
  
The Orc growled something and then Bilbo was flying through the sky, landing on something even less comfortable than an Orc and his breath was knocked from his lungs. 

“Bilbo!” Thorin shouted again, growing more and more frantic when he didn’t get a reply. “Bilbo!”  
  
Gasping to try and get his lungs back into working order Bilbo let his ring slip off his finger and into his pocket so he could wave to Thorin.  
  
“I’m fi-“ the Hobbit began to wheeze. But he didn’t get any longer before he fell backwards when a nearby Orc’s sword struck his chest.  
  
“NOOO!”  
  
-  
  
  
“Did you hear something?” Bofur asked Bombur.  
  
  
-  
  
Everything else in the world faded for Thorin, leaving only the shocked expression on Bilbo’s face as he tumbled backwards. If the Dwarf had been paying attention he would have seen the contented look on Azog face as the Orc rose to his feet, and the look of surprise as he suddenly found Tiny Tim’s spear sticking out of his stomach.  
  
The Orc who had swung his blade at Bilbo suddenly found three of Fíli’s knives in his throat.  
  
But none of this was noticed by Thorin who crashed to his knees next to his Hobbit, not caring how his various aches and pains protested at the move. He scrambled at his lover’s chest, cursing himself and his idiocy. Why hadn’t he made him wear armour even though – _oh_.  
  
“Thorin,” Bilbo said and blinked up at Thorin, pristine mithril gleaming up from between the open shirt and Thorin’s dirty fingers. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin said again, all other words having entirely fled from his tongue. His fingers once again brushed over the mithril shirt, not really understanding what his brain was telling him between the still managed screeching of his heart.  


-  
  
  
“My head… hurts,” Bilbo said slowly, looking up at Thorin who looked very concerned for some reason. Did he perhaps know how much Bilbo’s head hurt? If so it was nice of him to be so concerned because it _really_ hurt. “Wha' happened?”  
  
Dazed Bilbo looked up at the gloomy sky, and his eyes opened in surprise.  
  
“Eagles,” he said shakily.  
  
“Bilbo,” Fíli breathed, falling to his knees beside the Hobbit and Thorin flinched and then glanced in surprise at his nephew.  
  
“Eagles,” Bilbo murmured, pointing up at the sky with a hand that trembled. “They’re here. Only…” The blond frowned. “Only not like last time. Last time I saved you. Y'were the one on t' ground. ”  
  
“You saved me now as well, Bilbo,” Thorin promised.  
  
“I… did?”  
  
That was… nice. He liked Thorin being safe. That left time for him to take a bit of a nap. He really felt like he needed one, and even all the noise in the background wouldn’t stop him. It was probably just the rest of the Company raiding someone’s pantry again.  
  
-  
  
When Bilbo’s eyes fluttered closed Thorin’s grew wide with fear. And then he saw the slow spread of blood beneath the Hobbit's head.  
  
“Bilbo? _Bilbo_!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really hard to not write the Big Bang right now, apologies for that to everyone who is reading this, and perhaps reading another one of my WIPs.  
> Hopefully you will like the bb when its done, and until then, sorry for the slowness (on the upside, everything will last longer?)
> 
> And yes, I am evil. I blame the BB for that too. (erm, not *that* evil though, I mean, tags are tags and we like the tags *pets tags*)


	99. Breathing, I Heard It’s Good For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens next?

So the good news was that Eagles were very, very effective at killing Orcs. Very. Not to say that the rest of the Company, and Dáin's soldiers, and the Men, and even the Elves, had done a poor job of it, even if they couldn’t quite meet Beorn’s record of Orcs crushed with a single blow. Or Gandalf's slightly showy moves with his staff. But yes, a huge flock of even larger Eagles was definitely very nice, and Fíli was going to try and order one for all battles from now on.  
  
The bad news… the bad news was that it’d been half a day since the battle had ended and Bilbo still hadn’t woken up. Gandalf had had a look at him but said that he'd come around in his own time. However he'd not said how long that would take.  
  
Fíli sighed and buried his head in his hands.  
  
And let’s not forget certain stubborn uncles who forgot to mention that they were also bleeding from various parts of their body until they more or less fainted from the blood loss. And who, upon waking again tore themselves away from the sickbed; quite literally tearing more than a few stitches in the process, as he flailed around and demanded to be taken to Bilbo.  
  
Óin’s very dry and calm and tired: “Look to your left, lad,” had admittedly calmed Thorin somewhat. Somewhat. At least enough for Óin to take a look at his wounds again, because of course Thorin wasn’t allowing the Elves anywhere near him. He refused to leave Bilbo’s side though.

Not that Fíli blamed him, if it’d been Bofur-  
  
“Hey, love.”  
  
Warm, familiar arms slipped around Fíli’s shoulders and Fíli greedily leaned back, turning his face into Bofur’s neck.  
  
“Hi.”  
  
“Come here often?”  
  
Despite himself Fíli snorted and a small chuckle escaped him. Then another. And another. And he didn’t realise that he was actually crying until he was somehow curled up on Bofur’s lap and in the process of getting his husband’s shirt wet. Thankfully they weren’t down in the healing tents. Fíli had tucked himself away up on the battlements, not hiding per se, but definitely not not-hiding.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Fíli said, clearing his throat and sternly telling himself to stop clutching Bofur’s coat like he’d disappear if he didn’t. He managed to get one hand free and awkwardly swiped at his eyes.  
  
“None of that now,” Bofur said, gently brushing Fíli’s hair back from his face and tucking the stray locks behind one ear. “I more than understand. If you’d been up here cheerfully giggling I’d be a bit worried, but even that would be understandable. Orcs look mighty silly when they go splat against the ground. That image is going to stay with me for a _long_ time.”

One corner of Fíli’s mouth twitched. “Thank you. For, for everything.”  
  
“Now wait a minute,” Bofur protested, squirming around a little to find a more comfortable position on the stone floor (Fíli briefly considered getting off Bofur's lap, but decided against it on accounts of not wanting to leave). “That sounds awfully final. Don’t tell me that you plan to do away with me now.”  
  
“Suddenly you’ve stopped being funny,” Fíli mused and snorted wetly and with all the grace of a prince of the line of Durin. Which is to say enough grace to fill a thimble, if it was a small one.  
  
“And that’s why you’re doing away with me?”  
  
“No!” Fíli turned his head to look at his husband and noticed the teasing glint in his eyes. The blond sighed and gently knocked their heads together. “As I said, not funny.”  
  
“Alas,” Bofur said and hung his head, sighing exaggeratedly. “I expect you’ll take up with my brother then, he’s always been the funny one. And now he’s a war hero too, who would have imagined that.”  
  
“Haven’t I told you that you’re stuck with me? I seem to recall saying that.” Fíli narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “And yes, there was something… rhymes with bedding…”  
  
“Sledding?”  
  
“Must be it,” Fíli agreed. “But either way, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. Snot and all.” Sniffing, Fíli wished he had a handkerchief and when Bilbo woke up he would be sure to tell their Hobbit that he now understood the point of carrying such a thing around.  
  
“I’m fairly sure there wasn’t anything about snot at the sledding. But lucky for you…”  
  
When Bofur started to squirm again Fíli braced his hands on his husband’s shoulders to avoid tumbling off his lap.  
  
“Aha!” Bofur exclaimed holding up… a handkerchief, which he then handed to Fíli with a flourish. “I’ve another but I’m saving that one for Bilbo, so you can’t have it.”  
  
“Do you, think he’ll be fine, when-“ Yes, _when_. Not if, _when_. “-when he wakes up?”  
  
“Oh, he’ll probably find some reason or ‘nother to yell at us,” Bofur said with a small, crooked smile. “But we can just shove Thorin at him and make good of our escape.”

“There will be no shoving of my uncle,” Fíli admonished. “If he tears any more stitches I think Óin is going to do something drastic. Like asking one of the Elves for help.”

“Well,” Bofur said with a small shrug. “Maybe-

They heard the sound of running footsteps only moments before they heard Kíli’s shout.  
  
“Bilbo is waking up! Where _are_ you!” Fíli!  
  
Bofur and Fíli looked at each other and then as one they scrambled to their feet.  
  
It was not very convenient to try and scramble to your feet as one when you were in fact two. And that lesson was learnt by Fíli’s toes when Bofur stepped on them, and also by Bofur’s ribs when Fíli’s elbow accidentally zigged when it should have zagged.  
  
“Please tell me that you weren’t about to sleep together,” Kíli said as he came up the last of the stairs and took in the sight of his brother and Bofur.  
  
Fíli hadn’t redone his braids since before the battle and his hair looked a mess, as did Bofur’s but this was a more common occurrence. And add to that how Fíli’s face was flushed (from crying) and how their clothes were somewhat askew after the scramble to get up from the floor, and perhaps Kíli could be forgiven for making the assumption.  
  
“Don’t answer that,” Kíli immediately followed up with. “I don’t want to know. Just _come_ .” Kíli made a face not entirely unlike a face one would make after biting into a rotten plum. “I didn’t mean it like that. My poor mind. Ugh, the images. Don’t come anywhere were I can see it. Ever.”

However there were certain things that was more unforgivable. But as they had just survived their first big battle, Fíli was going to cut his brother some slack.  
  
"So, keep your pants on, and your hands where I can see them, and _follow_ me."  
  
Not indefinitely though.  
  
-  
  


“I thought you said that he was waking up.” Fíli levelled an accusing glare at his brother.  
  
“Well he was,” Kíli defended. “He seemed like he was. But then I had to run across the bloody mountain to find you.”  
  
“Not even Thorin is awake,” Fíli pointed out, nodding to where Thorin’s was half sitting, half lying next to Bilbo’s bed.  
  
“I’m awake,” Thorin murmured against the furs.  
  
“Your eyes are closed.”  
  
“I’m speaking to you two, aren’t I.”  
  
“You speak with your mouth,” Kíli helpfully informed his uncle. “Not with your eyes.”  
  
Thorin lifted his head and managed a tired glare. “I hope your mother gets here soon. Dáin sent a raven for her.”  
  
Fíli and Kíli exchanged a look. They actually hoped that their mother would hasten to get to Erebor, because if she would be yelling at anyone, it was much more likely to be Thorin. They weren’t the ones who had gotten injured after all.  
  
“Mrmp,” Bilbo sighed, and Bofur fished out the other handkerchief from his pocket and held it up in what he estimated would be Bilbo's line of vision, if he would open his eyes that was.  
  
“Bilbo if you wake up, I’ve got a surprise for you.”  
  
“Hmmm.” Was the only reply to that.  
  
A movement out of the corner of his eye made Fíli turn his head. It was Óin, pushing aside the heavy cloth to walk into the tent.  
  
Thorin would of course have preferred to have both himself and Bilbo moved into Erebor, but Óin had convinced him (read: yelled at him for an hour about how people with head wounds and people with half the blood they should have _shouldn_ ’t move or be moved around too much and) that it was better they stayed in one of the tents closer to the battlefield.  
  
“What are the lot of you doing in here?” the healer asked grumpily.  
  
Bofur awkwardly waved the handkerchief at him. “Bilbo was waking up?”  
  
“He opened his eyes!” Kíli nodded eagerly. “I saw it.”  
  
“I take it he closed them again?” Óin scoffed. “Lad, if he’s waking up it’s not going to happen all at once. And when he does wake up I don’t want all of you hanging around. Getting knocked too hard on the head might get things a little jumbled up, he doesn’t need all of you-“  
  
“Ow,” Bilbo said, quite succinctly. And all five of the Dwarfs swivelled their head to look at their burglar

“Bilbo, dear one. Bilbo?” Thorin lifted his hand to gently cup Bilbo’s face and pretended how said hand didn’t have a small, but definitely noticeable, tremor.  
  
Bilbo’s eyelashes fluttered. “Ow,” he said again. “My head hurts.”  
  
“He’s alive!” Kíli crowed and Fíli smacked him.  
  
“Don’t talk like that. Of course he is.”  
  
“I thought you said it wouldn’t happen all at once?” Bofur asked Óin who shrugged.  
  
“Hobbits,” he sighed. “Never does what you expect do they? Gandalf warned me.”  
  
Thorin however hadn’t heard any of their talk, too focused on his Hobbit slowly crawling his way back to consciousness.

“Bilbo, my love, you’re awake.”  
  
“It would seem like I am,” Bilbo admitted, hazel eyes a little unfocused as he took in the Dwarfs surrounding his bed. “But who are you?” he added with a slow blink.  
  
Everyone stopped breathing, and didn’t start again until Bilbo lifted his hand and weakly slapped Thorin’s arm. “Yes. That serves you right for scaring the breath out of me! All of you, but you!" He slapped Thorin's arm again. "When I saw that warg sneak up on you… And you’re supposed to be a seasoned warrior. Hah! Shouting out for Orcs to come and bash at you. Why I never-”  
  
As Bilbo continued to rant at Thorin, said Dwarf continued to not breathe and merely looked at Bilbo with big eyes.

 “I think he broke Uncle,” Kíli remarked. “Or he’s back to the boulder impression. Been a while really.”  
  
“So this is where you’re all at,” Dwalin said as he marched into the tent, flinging the cloth door aside with an impatient wave of his arm.  
  
“You are never going to leave me in a tent again!”  
  
“I see the burglar is better,” Dwalin said with a small huff, wrapping one arm around Kíli and pulling him close.  
  
“And you are _much_ too pretty,” Bilbo scolded Thorin. “Really, I cannot be expected to keep a level head when you look like that. And you look like that _all_ the time.”  
  
Óin frowned. “He seems a bit addled though?”  
  
“No more than usual,” Dwalin shrugged. “Thorin though, why is he just standing around and gaping at him?”  
  
“Bilbo took his revenge for Uncle scaring him before I think,” Fíli said and gently pulled on the back of Bofur’s coat. “You can give him the handkerchief later, love. I think they’re going to be busy for a while. No shoving necessary.”  
  
“Don’t say _busy_ ,” Kíli protested. “I- Oh dear Mahal, my eyes.”  
  
Thorin had apparently decided to stop being a boulder and then he seemed to have decided that the best way of shutting Bilbo up was with his own mouth.  
  
Fíli hid behind Dwalin. For no reason in particular of course. Certainly not because he was as immature as his brother.  
  
“If even a single stitch pops I swear I will make Dwalin sit on you while I go get an Elf,” Óin threatened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I think… I think there’s actually only one more chapter to go of this. (and this is not an April Fool’s joke)
> 
> But don’t worry!!! Don’t fret, and don’t panic, (just make sure you know where your towels are) because I already have a sequel planned. But this story has to end somewhere, and why not make it at chapter (wow) 100.
> 
> It’s a nice number. Thank you for helping me make it happen, because if people hadn't been reading I wouldn't have gotten this far.  
> So I'll see all of you in chapter 100. :)


	100. The Aftermath And What Came After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author promises that she's missed you all.

There was much to do in the aftermath of a battle like the one outside Erebor’s gates, which was why Fíli didn’t understand why Dáin kept harping on about weddings. More specifically, Kíli’s. And he definitely didn’t understand why Dáin kept talking to _him_ about it. If he wanted to plan Kíli’s wedding to Dwalin, wouldn’t it make a lot more sense to talk to either of them about it?

“They should both wear blue I suppose,” Dáin mused. “Since both are from the line of Durin.”  
  
Fíli also didn’t understand why he was still listening to this.  
  
“Dáin,” he begun, only to spot the familiar form of his brother sneaking into the main hall. “ _Kíli_!”  
  
If someone had to listen to Dáin, it wouldn’t be him. At least not alone.  
  
Freezing as if he’d been Nori getting caught in the middle of committing a burglary, Kíli hunched his shoulders and tried his best to blend in with the wall behind him. Since it was made out of grey marble and Kíli wasn’t, it didn’t go all that well. Nori would probably have managed, but Nori worked in mysterious ways.  
  
“Prince Kíli,” Dáin said and crossed his arms. “Please, join us.”  
  
Kíli’s eyes flitted across the room, looking for a way to escape. “I needed to-“  
  
Seeing as Dáin’s attention was well and truly fixed on his brother, Fíli saw his own chance to escape. He hadn’t seen Bofur in over an hour, and he also wanted to see if he could track down Beorn. Had he come here alone or with some of his animals? And if the latter, where were they?

Unfortunately Kíli didn’t want to be the only one subjected to Dáin anymore than Fíli wanted it.  
  
“-to speak to my _brother_. And to you.”  
  
When Dáin turned to glance at him, Fíli relaxed and looked as if he’d not at all been in the process of legging it. Then, when he caught sight of the look in Kíli’s eyes and the blond braced himself. He knew that look. It was the look of Kíli plotting. It was the look that happened before the two of them coaxed a horse into Thorin’s quarters or before Bilbo got caught by Trolls.  
  
“I need to apologise to you,” Kíli said earnestly and looked at them both in turn. “Especially to you, Dáin. I know that you have been looking forward to planning my wedding, but I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.”  
  
For a moment Fíli thought that something had happened with Dwalin. Only that couldn’t be true, because not only had Fíli seen Dwalin after all the fighting was over, Kíli wasn’t upset. He tried to look saddened, but if he’d been in possession of a tail, it would have been wagging and not tucked between his legs. He was pleased, with himself most likely.

“And pray tell why that’s not going to be possible,” Dáin demanded with an annoyed huff. “And don’t try and fool me into believing that you’ve stopped courting.”  
  
Kíli froze again, and Fíli just barely avoided covering his eyes with his hands.  
  
Really? _That_ had been Kíli’s plan? It would only have worked for however long it took for his brother and Dwalin to be in the same room together. Had they, or perhaps only Kíli as Fíli doubted that Dwalin was informed, planned on avoiding each other for the rest of Dáin’s stay in Erebor? Or perhaps just avoiding Dáin… That seemed like a better idea, even if it was still a lousy one.  
  
Still, let it never be said that Kíli was bad at thinking on his feet. His rabbit-in-front-of-a-warg expression melted away into grin, and brown eyes sparkled merrily at Dáin.  
  
“Quite the opposite!” Kíli promised and winked at Fíli. “You see, Dwalin and I were together for the entire battle. Fighting side by side, killing Orcs and Wargs and-“  
  
“Get to the point,” Dáin sighed. “My prince,” he added, somewhat belatedly.  
  
“I _was_ getting to the point,” Kíli said, injured. “You see, everyone knows that a bond is formed when you fight side by side with someone, saving each other’s lives over and over. And well, according to _tradition_ , Dwalin and I are now married. We married out on the battlefield. A bond forged-“  
  
“That’s not any tradition I have ever heard of,” Dáin said and narrowed his eyes.  
  
“I never said it was an _old_ tradition,” Kíli defended and took a step backwards. “ _Someone_ ’s got to start it.”  
  
“There was no marriage contract!” Dáin argued. “It’s not valid.”  
  
“Blood was spilled!” Kíli argued right back. “I’d say that’s better than ink. And we’ve braided each other’s hair!”  
  
“Just because you’ve lived in Ered Luin, with their traditions-“  
  
“It’s a good tradition!”  
  
As silently as he could, Fíli slipped away and left them to it.  
  
He wanted to find Bofur, and Beorn, and if he couldn’t find either of them there was plenty of things for him to occupy his time with. Thorin was not supposed to leave the tent that Óin had declared the ‘Roayl Tent of Healing’, even if he still did leave it from time to time, but as soon as Óin, or Bilbo, caught him at it they made him go right back.  
  
Bilbo didn’t even need to try very hard as Thorin was definitely inclined to do whatever their Hobbit asked of him for the foreseeable future. Except getting enough bed rest, because Thorin had always been hopeless about allowing himself any privilege he would have demanded that another must take. He had a kingdom to rule, finally, and such a small thing as almost dying couldn’t stand in the way of making sure that his people was well cared for.

Luckily he had a Hobbit to make sure that _he_ was well cared for. And who was prepared to yell at him to sit down the moment he started to look pale.  
  
Bilbo had done an unusual amount of yelling since waking up, but no one blamed him really. Óin even appreciated it since it allowed him to hear what Bilbo had to say without needing to use his hearing trumpet. And he never yelled for very long anyway since Thorin refused to yell back, he only looked at Bilbo with sad blue eyes and nodded, and that seemed to drain Bilbo’s ire even faster than being offered a handkerchief. Or a raspberry pie.  
  
Then kissing usually happened and that Fíli preferred not to think about.  
  
He assumed that eventually Bilbo was going to go back to the Shire, not to stay, but he would probably want to sort out the parts of his life that he’d left that morning when he’d come running after them.  
  
It would probably be best if Thorin accompanied him. The alternative would not be pleasing to anyone in Erebor. But that was a problem for another time. Bilbo hadn’t gone unscathed from the battle either and from time to time he got bad headaches and spells of dizziness, and would not be travelling anywhere until Óin had declared him fit for it.

If the decision had been left to Thorin, Bilbo would never be declared well enough. Except maybe not. Thorin, surprise, hated that Bilbo had been hurt. Hated it and blamed himself. But to be fair, they all did. Bilbo was not meant for battle.  
  
If their Hobbit had heard him thinking something like that he would likely have assumed that Fíli considered him too poor of a fighter, and true, Bilbo was not a trained warrior. He’d never even touched a blade bigger than a butter knife before finding that Elven one. But he also never should have been put in that kind of situation. Hobbits were meant for untroubled lives, a life of green and plenty (and plenty of greens to Ori’s distaste), Hobbits were not like Dwarfs.  
  
But then again, Bilbo was not exactly like other Hobbits. And Fíli was happy beyond all that words could express that Bilbo had agreed to join them. He had saved them again and again, and helped them. And without him Thorin would most likely be dead. They all would be, long before they got to the battle.

Their kind was not very good with apologies, that Fíli could admit. But they were great with grand gestures. Those who, before the battle, had doubted Bilbo’s worth, and his place in Thorin’s life, was now singing his praises as loudly as any of the members of Thorin’s Company. To the misfortune of Kíli. With Bilbo's popularity being what it was no one would try and make him have a big and complicated wedding if he didn't want one. Probably not even Dáin. Which again left Kíli's wedding to Dwalin as the only contender for a 'proper' royal wedding.  
  
Fíli wished his brother all the luck in the world, he really did.  
  
Walking out of Erebor Fíli bumped into Bombur, literally.  
  
“Hello there, brother-in-law!” Bombur greeted him cheerfully and steadied him before he could topple to the ground. “If you’re looking for Bofur he’s with Beorn and Balin.”  
  
“Balin? Don’t tell me Beorn brought the rabbits along.”  
  
“Nah,” Bombur snorted. “He came alone. But Balin wants to know how they’re doing. Just sorting out all the new-borns will keep them busy a while. Bofur’s trying to get a word in edgewise about the ponies. Now-” Bombur patted him on the back. “If you will excuse me. I’m in need of finding a new set of clothes or I’ll be late.”  
  
“Late for what?” Fíli asked.  
  
“I met this lovely woman from Lake-town,” Bombur grinned. “She’s such a plump and pleasing thing. And she’s making me dinner. And her being taller is a marvellous advantage because it puts her chest just-”  
  
“From Lake-town?” Fíli asked. "Not one of the ladies who arrived with Dáin?"  
  
Bombur sniffed. “Don’t sound so shocked. Your uncle is as good as married to a Hobbit. Besides, it’s just for some fun. And good relations with our neighbours. She was most impressed with the stories I could tell of our quest.”

“But, the river?” Fíli blinked. “You don’t even remember most of it.”  
  
“Details!” Bombur called over his shoulder as he walked away. “And I’ve read Ori’s notes! So I’m a well-read war hero even!”  
  
Fíli stared after him, and then he chuckled. It was rather comforting to know that some things never changed.

But now he had a husband to find, and a Man to question about their friends, and probably a Balin to comfort as he was undoubtedly getting maudlin at the thought of missing so many bunny babies being born.  
  
Not to mention he should probably stop on the way and make sure no one was picking fights with the Elves and that the supplies in the healing tents were still plenty. And that Thorin hadn’t escaped.  
  
There were plenty of busy days ahead, for them all, but Fíli had never been happier. They had come so far, accomplished the impossible, and regardless of the future would bring, they would-  
  
"I don't want a wedding. I swear I'm already married. _Fíliiiiiii_!"

Fíli hurried his steps. Okay, they could defeat all foes, climb all obstacles, except perhaps for Dáin and his love of grand ceremonies. But Fíli had survived one, and so would Kíli.  
  
The future was still bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! And so is this story. Except that it's now ended. But there will be sequels! I have four planned right now, but if you want to know what happened re anything/anyone specific, please let me know :)

**Author's Note:**

> Bofur is adorable. I just wanted to add that.


End file.
